


Autumn Leaves

by eyeronicmuch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternative Universe - Jazz Music, Jazz - Freeform, Lots of blushing, M/M, Slow Burn, and handholding, lots of frank sinatra songs, lowkey set in the 60s/70s, minor johnny/ten, minor taeyong/sicheng, the romance is pretty slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch
Summary: In which Jaehyun, a classical musician, gets warped into the world of jazz by Yuta, and now they’re in for a wild adventure full of music, performing, and love.





	Autumn Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> this was so much fun to write, mostly because i love both jazz and yujae!!  
> the title is taken from one of my favourite jazz pieces, autumn leaves, which was covered by ryo fukui and bill evans, i suggest you check them out uwu  
> yuta is partially based off of my grandpa, who introduced me to jazz and sparked my love for music :) also,, this is lowkey set in the 60s/70s, and i don’t know much about them, so there are bound to be inaccuracies. enjoy!

On a winter night, when the snow was fresh and the trees were bare of their green coats and colourful jewelry, when the nights were as long as days, if not longer, he sat down in front of the grand redwood piano, his oldest and bested friend. Carefully lifting the lid, he admired the rusty black and white keys, adorned with dust, with memories, memories of his childhood and adolescent years. The thick, rich smell of fine wood awoke nostalgia, the happy days when he used to sit for hours and hours besides the instrument, exploring new sounds and re-arranging old ones, creating new melodies and playing old ones over and over again, until his fingers turned numb and until his neighbors started yelling incoherent sounds, but Jaehyun filtered them out and drowned in his own little world.

Jaehyun pressed on the C. It was out of tune. He pressed on more keys, they were off too, some notes couldn’t be heard clearly, but it was okay. The piano was old and wise, and despite its keys being worn out and the left pedal not working, the edge of its foot being chipped, it was one of the best pianos he could ever ask for. Jaehyun dwelled for a moment, internally sorry for forgetting about his old friend, and as he lightly pressed minor chords on the keys, he let his emotions overflow. 

Sounds and melodies echoed through the room. Jaehyun took off his glasses, stared at the blurry keys and closed his eyes, filtering out any unnecessary sounds. Hesitantly, he skimmed through his entire repertoire, growing more eager and gaining confidence with each piece he started playing. By now, he was one with the piano, his hands were intertwined with the keys, his body was rooted to the stool and to the pedals. Jaehyun hummed along to Chopin’s nineteenth nocturne, he was concentrated, but unfocused at the same time. Jaehyun’s mind wandered as he played, he poured out his soul into the last crescendo, the culmination, and then his furrowed eyebrows wavered and his tense shoulders relaxed, and as his touches grew lighter into pianissimo, it was as if he faded with the last remaining note.

Jaehyun hadn’t realized how close his slouched body was close to the piano until sounds of clapping broke the deafening silence, and he jolted straight up. 

“That was really impactful,” an abrupt voice said, sounding rather deep and velvety. Almost melodic, just like the way Jaehyun played the old piano. Jaehyun flushed a deep shade of red, ears burning. 

“My apologizes for intruding,” the voice spoke again, this time louder, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but the war want closed, and I couldn’t resist.” Jaehyun could make out the blurry figure of the man walk up closer to him, he nodded and put on his glasses, and oh– he didn’t expect to see someone so beautiful standing in front of him. 

The man looked down at him, smiling softly. His eyes were alike to moon crescents, his dirty blond hair looked as soft as summer clouds. Rows of piercings decorated his ears, resembling shining stars. The man looked both masculine and yet very delicate, as if he was sent by the roman gods themselves down onto earth, and something about him was so captivating, Jaehyun couldn’t help but stare in awe. 

“Was that Chopin?” The stranger asked, leaning against the instrument.

“Yes, yes it was.” It was surprising to Jaehyun. The man hit the target. “How’d you guess?” 

The man laughs, and it’s music to Jaehyun’s ears. “I can play the piano too. I’m not as good as you, though. I excel in the saxophone.” The man said proudly, “I’m Yuta,” he stretched his hand and Jaehyun shook it. The man’s hand was soft. “Do you play only classical pieces?”

“Jaehyun, and yes,” he replied, “I was taught only those, so I stuck with it. It’s calming. What about you?”

Yuta’s eyes turned cat-like, as if they glimmered with amber, yellow and gold for a fraction of a second, his lips quirked up into a subtle smirk, and as he drummed the fingers lightly against the roof of the instrument, he expressed, “Seventeenth century music isn’t for me. I focus on more modern directions, such as jazz and blues. Do you like it?”

“I do,” Jaehyun paused, “but I’m not a big fan.”

“I see,” Yuta hummed, “I take it you can’t play any pieces then, can you?”

Jaehyun shook his head. “Move to the side a bit, then,” Yuta urged him, and Jaehyun shuffled to the left. The former plopped down next to him, looking excited. There was barely any space between them, their knees were touching, but neither minded. Yuta cracked his knuckles, and let out big sigh. “Just a heads up, I haven’t played in years, i’m like wicked rusty.”

“That’s alright.”

“Great!” Yuta exclaimed, “Let’s start with Oscar Peterson, then i’ll play famous pieces of Miles Davis, Bill Evans, and of course, Frank Sinatra.”

And to say the least, a whole new world was opened to Jaehyun.

The way Yuta played the piano was much different from Jaehyun’s. He didn’t close his eyes, didn’t lull himself into a dream-like state like Jaehyun did. He didn’t reminisce the past, he was submerged in the present. Yuta concentrated only on the blacks and whites, played with a wide smile on his face, full of energy and enthusiasm, and it was contagious. Jaehyun involuntarily found himself smiling or nodding along to the beat.

The man surrounded himself with an strong aura of confidence and boldness. Sure, he made many mistakes. At times, he stammered, or played the wrong notes, but he laughed them off, smile never wavering, and despite the dissonances he played as beautifully as a true born performer. Jaehyun could feel Yuta’s love for music, for the piano.

What Jaehyun found amazing was not what Yuta played, but rather how Yuta played. He looked like he had the time of his life. He played loudly, borderline banging the instrument, playing with an ever-growing forte. He pressed the keys with his all of his soul, but the touch was light, his eyes were shining with determination and passion, and oh, the way his upper body moved, Yuta played freely, magically, his music was _alive_.

Each piece Yuta played had it’s own story, life, it was living and breathing, it had its own ups and downs, just like humans. But the then Yuta started improvising, and the short lives of the notes were unpredictable, spontaneous, restless, but at the same time laid-back and relaxing. As Yuta played on an on, for minutes to go, Jaehyun felt at ease. Af is Yuta transferred them to the past, where this music was around every corner, or to a high class restaurant, where jazz merged with bossa nova, that played softly in the background of murmurs of the guests. 

The notes grew louder, more frequent, more provoking, but Jaehyun was only partly concerned for the piano, the biggest other part of him was completely mesmerized, both by the stranger and by the harmonious melodies of jazz.

“What do you think?” Yuta asked, expectant, once he pressed the last chords, making eye contact with Jaehyun. Jaehyun flushed, still under a daze. It took him a few seconds to formulate an answer. “I’m speechless.”

“Ah, i’m guessing it wasn’t that bad then!”

“Just the opposite.” And Yuta smiled even wider. 

“Wait, i’ve got one more piece, i’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Yuta said, not waiting for Jaehyun’s answer. He started humming a familiar tune, then started playing the instrument again. Soft noises filled the room, it’s late, around one a.m, and Jaehyun’s lips turned upwards at Yuta’s choice of song.

“Strangers in the night?” Yuta nodded, pleased, “Fitting.”

“I know,” the man cheekily answered, bumping shoulders with Jaehyun, “that’s why I chose it.” 

Just like a magician, Yuta made the atmosphere comfortable, relaxing, even slightly romantic with his playing. He still hummed along softly, and Jaehyun wished he sung louder. All while Yuta was occupied with the instrument, Jaehyun didn’t know whether to stare at the stranger’s delicate, elegant hands, that worked wonders, or at his bright face, pink cheeks and burning eyes. He settled for both. 

Minutes later, Yuta finished the piece, proud, a bit tired, but glowing, leaving a huge impression on Jaehyun.

“By the way,” Yuta said, “I forgot to mention that we’re neighbours,” he turned to Jaehyun, his eyes still like two crescents, that glowed brighter than the moon outside the window, and Jaehyun swears he could stare at his smile all day long. “I hope we’ll get to see each other often.”

“I hope so too.”

And maybe, just like in the song, a spark between them ignited, and out of whatever just happened, something bloomed. Something alike to a wonderful bouquet of notes, filled with sharps and flats, scales and tonics, weaved with a single string under the name of music.

 

-

 

The next time Jaehyun saw Yuta, or rather, _heard_ him, was a week later. Muffled sounds of the saxophone could be heard from Jaehyun’s room, vibrations of the soft tenor, playing an emotional yet upbeat melody that enthralled Jaehyun in and out. He found himself walking up to his neighbour’s door, enchanted, and knocking quietly on it. 

Yuta opened the door, exhilarated, a bit out of breath. His hair was messily styled, it was ruffled, his forehead was sweaty, but even so, he looked as ethereal as a human possibly could. “Hi!” He exclaimed, “Good to see you!”

Jaehyun skipped the formalities, getting straight to the point, “What piece was that?”

“What I played just now?” Yuta asked rhetorically, “Autumn leaves.”

“Autumn leaves”, Jaehyun repeated, “it’s so so beautiful, and the way you play– it’s so alluring.” 

Yuta grinned, ears slightly pink, “Why thank you, it’s one of my favourite pieces ever.” 

“I could feel it, really, you’re amazing.” And Yuta waves him off, “Please, it’s nothing special.”

“To me it was,” Jaehyun protested. And it was true. Jaehyun has never heard such an arrangement before, he was mesmerized by the way Yuta played the instrument, how he played it slowly and with a lot of thought, with calmness and serenity, yet with a tinge of , with how it sounded– everything. He wanted to hear more, know more, play more. 

“Can you teach me?”

Yuta’s grin widening was his response. 

It doesn’t take Jaehyun long to delve into the world of jazz, especially since Yuta was such a strong influence. 

“Relax,” Yuta had said one cold night whilst Jaehyun was sitting on his creaking throne over the piano. “You’re too stiff,” he said, massaging Jaehyun’s shoulders to emphasize his point. “When you play jazz, it’s not about the accuracy, it’s about emotion, your feelings, you should know that.”

“What am I doing wrong?” Jaehyun asked, perplexed. When Yuta touched the keys, his moves were light, feathery, yet they made strong sounds. His notes were brimming with life and will, but Jaehyun’s sounded weak and too rhythmic. 

“The fact that you play too perfectly,” Yuta pointed out. “You play impeccably, so to say, and that’s what’s wrong. Your music has no soul, no drive, the music doesn’t sound alive, it sounds plain and programmed. Relax! Your shoulders are so tense. 

“Don’t think about playing right, because you can, play with your feelings.” Yuta mused, guiding Jaehyun’s hands over the keys, pressing A’s and C’s, “It doesn’t matter if some notes are off, or if you’ve gone off track, it will only give the piece individuality, characters, more colours, you’ll add your own touch to the music. Isn’t that amazing?” His smile was expectant, kind, and Jaehyun felt a bit embarrassed under Yuta’s strong gaze.

And then Yuta spoke again, “Be it classical music or jazz, emotion makes much more impact. When I overheard you playing Chopin that day, that’s what i’m talking about. Oh, the way your poured your soul into the piece! Truly astounding. I could feel your pain, your sincerity, and– and that was beautiful.” Yuta patted Jaehyun’s head, then moved again to the keys, “I think, if you’ll submerge yourself into the atmosphere completely, explore different combinations of sounds, then it’ll be as easy as do re mi,” he finished with a sequence of the said notes, then, “Try playing again.”

As Jaehyun’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and then slowly pressed further, Jaehyun could feel himself tensing up for no apparent reason. Maybe because of him being careful, hesitant, a bit scared of messing things up, but then He felt Yuta massaging slow big circles into his shoulders, easing the tenseness in his muscles, and Jaehyun let out a light breath. If threw him off track, but he felt much lighter. 

“Yes!” Yuta cheered, “Just like that!”

Unconsciously, the sound coming from the touch of Jaehyun’s fingers became lighter, as if not only the weight from his shoulders was lifted, but from his arms too. Maybe he was overthinking, or convincing himself, but it was like the melody flowed smoother, less forced, and more natural. From syncopes to messing up the measures, it felt great. Jaehyun smiled to himself, having a sense of accomplishment fill him up. “Wait here,” Yuta said, “I’ll be right back.” 

He came back moments later, his golden saxophone in hand, that looked really heavy, but the way Yuta held onto it easily made it seem as if it was lighter than air, and Jaehyun was bubbling up with anticipation for that they were about to do next.

“What about a duet?” Yuta smiled. Jaehyun liked how Yuta always a smile on his face. It was as if Yuta was a ray of sunshine, sent to brightens everyone’s day. He was a cloud of optimism, positivity and support. Something that’s so rare nowadays, yet so needed. 

Again, Yuta didn’t wait for Jaehyun’s answer. He blew a low Sol, then a La, a higher Si. “What’re you staring at? Accompany me! Play along.” And Jaehyun complied. Outside, snowflakes fell onto the pavement and as if melted right outside Jaehyun’s window, where the air felt warmer from the exuding melody of Autumn Leaves. 

Jaehyun rhythm was still a bit too high strung, a bit tacky, it flowed too smoothly for the liking of jazz, but they made it work. Yuta made up for it with his improvisation, he anchored the piece and the same time set it afloat, it flowed at smoothly as a boat on water, and something in Jaehyun’s chest expanded. Maybe it was because of the feeling of excitement, thrill and elevation, maybe it was because of the sight of Yuta’s cherry lips and veiny hands around the saxophone, maybe a bit of both.

 

-

 

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“About time you asked that,” Yuta chuckled, “where do I even start?” 

It’s been a long evening. The grew skies turned pitch black, and yet the snow that fell from them was faded white. It was cold, freezing even– the perfect weather to stay inside. And so Yuta invited himself over, like the unpredictable self he is, and now they’re both huddled over the coffee table, large tea mugs in hand, an aroma of Christmas and enchantment at bay. 

Jaehyun would like to consider them friends. Over the weeks, they became pretty close. He saw Yuta pretty often, they usually talked about music, favorite composers, movies, soundtracks, nothing more, nothing less, sometimes went to the roof of the apartment building to watch over the stars in the freezing cold, and muse about classics and jazz. The stars were bright, but Yuta was brighter.

Whatever the stars were, Yuta was even more.

However, Jaehyun still didn’t know much at all about Yuta, about his likes and dislikes, his dreams and aspirations, besides him being multitalented, determined, and expressive. Yuta didn’t know much about him either.

“Start off with whatever you want.”

“Alright,” Yuta thought for a second or two, “So, about music,” Of course, it’s about music. Yuta sighed, eyes searching for something far back, “Quite a funny story, actually. When I was four, I got hit by a car, I was young and reckless. Guess who nearly ran me over? My brother.” Jaehyun gasped and Yuta laughed at him. “Don’t worry, i’m good. But I was knocked out for a few hours because of the shock, and then, I couldn’t speak for about two days, and when I finally could, I stuttered over every single word. Concerning, right? My mother and father, of course, took me to the hospital, and the doctor told them to send me to a music school, and now, twenty-two years later, here I am!

“Of course, I also did sports. Boxing, in fact. I loved boxing, thought about pursuing it professionally. But then when I showed up to my music lesson with bruised, half bleeding knuckles that I could barely bend, my teacher told me: it’s either boxing or music. And I picked music. In high school, I picked up the sax, and it kind of stuck with me, you know? We clicked. It’s different from the piano, oh, it was also around the same time I got into jazz. I played in a jazz band in college, it was the four of us.” Yuta spoke with a calming tone, not quite looking at Jaehyun, “Good times. What about you?” And now Yuta was looking straight at him, and Jaehyun noticed how deep and pretty his eyes were. In fact, Yuta himself was extremely pretty. No, pretty was an understatement. He was beautiful. 

“My path to music isn’t as dramatic as yours,”  
Jaehyun started, also remembering his lessons of music theory, solfeggio, piano and choir. Scattered fragments of memories popped up in his head. Hazy pictures of his kind solfeggio teacher, that sat in front of the piano, playing a music quiz and hiding her right arm with notes, thinking that no one could guess what she was playing. His gentle piano teacher that was with him through thick and thin, that gave him sweets and birthday presents, whose eyes were warm and wrinkles soft, that eventually left the country, taking all of the kindness away with her.

Jaehyun remembered his seat mate in solfeggio, and friend at the time, copying Jaehyun mid-quiz, because Jaehyun got straight As no matter what. He remembered the short breaks between the lessons, where he barely had the time to run downstairs and buy himself a snack, the feeling of tiredness and interest both molded together when he turned to class to learn about the biography of Tschaikovskiy, Schubert, Rimsky-Korsakov. 

Choir. He remembered choir. Being sorted into soprano in his younger years, but then being assorted to alto when his limbs grew taller and voice grew deeper. He remembered standing on stage, singing Moon River along with his peers, the light above blinding him, the blurry faces of the audiences, as if they were far far away, and the complete absence of stage fright and anxiety, because he didn’t stand out, wasn’t alone. He recollected it well.

He remembered slacking off in his last year on music school, especially on music literature. Never doing homework, not listening to the lectures. How guilty he felt when the teacher let him off with a wave when he admitted that he didn’t do the homework again and again, guilty because she had so much trust in him, and he took advantage of that. He recalled being scared shitless on the oral exam, his stable voice growing weak and squeaky, hands clammy and cold. Or on his exam for the piano class, how he stayed until late playing Haydn and Bach over and over, his teacher scolding him, calling him names, him being terrified of getting a bad grade, and at that time, of performing on stage. 

He remembered graduating, having his diploma handed to him. His red, excellent diploma that he worked oh so hard for. The vivid emotions of proudness and sadness that washed over him that moment. Him proud of finally reaching the last step, overcoming all boundaries, but sad because there was nowhere else to go, because it was over. Jaehyun mused. They were also good times. 

“I, also, went to music school, was actually a pretty good student. I graduated, went to a conservatory, just like my parents wanted. They gave me a push, but I walked myself. Fell in love with music, with the piano, with performing.” 

Jaehyun remembered the torturing years in the conservatory. How he was surrounded by people much better than him, more advanced, experienced, how overwhelmed he was by the feeling of being so little, always feeling like a tiny seashell in the vast open ocean. Rather clear images of his professors flashed before his eyes, all the times they loaded him work on top of work, demanded things that Jaehyun couldn’t possibly give back to them. The feelings of frustration, that tagged along Jaehyun everywhere he went, helplessness and tiredness in tow. But it was worth it. Everything was worth it, in the end. 

Yuta’s eyes on him were soft and sweet, crinkling around the corners, and Jaehyun realized that he got a little carried away. “Oh, i’m sorry.” He apologized sheepishly, but Yuta didn’t mind. “I don’t think i’ve ever heard you talk that much. Keep talking. I love your voice.” But Jaehyun shied away. “Your turn.”

“What else can I say? I didn’t pursue music further, unlike you, in a sense. I went to a college, there me and my friends formed a jazz band, like I told you. Played in underground bars, performed on stages, wherever we could. Once we graduated, we disbanded, but we weren’t an official band anyways. We all went our separate directions. I went back to Japan, to Hokkaido, to be exact, worked as geodesist for about two years. We were in the mountains, in the snow, in the blizzards, it was pretty cool. It was fun. But I didn’t have my saxophone with me, and no chances of playing the piano. My time there was full of thrill and adventure, just what I love, but still, I felt like something was missing, you know?” Yuta gestured his hands around. Jaehyun had thought he understood what Yuta meant. “I didn’t know what exactly.

“But then I returned to Osaka, and when I held the saxophone in my hands, that’s when I realized what I had been missing. So I quit the job, wanted a change in life, so I moved to Korea permanently. Now i’m here. Tried to find a music-related job, but none accepted as I don’t have a university diploma. And I couldn’t even say anything back! Apparently actually knowing how to play the instrument isn’t enough. But anyways, I tried looking for any underground bands that looked for a member, that didn’t work out well either.” His shoulders slumped. “I wonder what my friends are doing right now. I haven’t seen them since our last performance together. All I know is that one immigrated to the states, that lucky bastard, and the other two, I think, are still in Korea.” 

Listening to Yuta speak was lulling. Yuta’s voice was as smooth as honey, as rich and velvety as the finest silks, it was calming like the waveless sea. He spoke with a slight, nearly unnoticeable accent, that added more depth into his pronunciation and richness into his speech. Jaehyun concluded that Yuta’s voice was sweeter than any lullaby. 

“It makes me remember that I once had a dream of becoming an artist, a composer or a musician, to play my own songs, have my own official band, to have a name in the jazz world, but now that I think about it, it’s a bit silly, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself. Yuta’s smile was saddening, gaze a bit dull. “I should be working on a normal job, preferably an office one, and not pursue something nearly impossible.”

“No it’s not,” Jaehyun retorted and Yuta’s haze snapped back on him. His eyes were wide and waiting. “It’s not silly at all. Dreams aren’t silly. They give you stimulation, encouragement and will. They’re like an engine, you know? They steer you on the path you want to go on, they’re the drive of everything. To be honest, it’s amazing that you even have one. When today, our imagination is repressed and dreams are thrown aside, we do what we’re told, and yet you act differently. You don’t let anyone control you.” Jaehyun rambled on. Yuta was like a free spirit, who didn’t fit with the idea that one must work from nine to five. Yuta believed that you should do what you love, not love what you do. 

“I personally, don’t have anything like that. I just go where life takes me, I don’t particularly have anything to look forward to or anything to work for. I don’t remember ever dreaming of something, or pursuing or striving for something great and admirable, I just went with the flow. My parents told me to study music, so I did. Luckily I fell in love with the notes. In this sense, i’m the complete opposite of you. I love what I do.”

“I’m glad you did. Though, how can one dislike music?” Yuta questioned. Jaehyun didn’t know the answer. “It’s alright that you don’t have a dream yet, you’re still young, fresh out of university, right?” Jaehyun nodded. “Besides, dreams change over time, don’t they?”

“But yours didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Yuta chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly.

Yuta looked down at his hands, deep in thought, and Jaehyun looked at him. He guessed Yuta wasn’t the one to talk about such tender things, and all he wanted was to wipe the frown off the man’s face. 

“Well,” Jaehyun spilled his thoughts, “reuniting the band would be quite impossible, so to speak, but what if you were to meet up with them? You probably have a lot to catch up on. Maybe they’ll be up for a song or to, maybe not. What do you think?”

“Huh?”

“Thank about it,” Jaehyun said, basking in the sparkles of Yuta’s eyes, “I think reuniting with your friends would give you fulfillment and closure, and then you can focus on performing solo, or,” Jaehyun scratched his head, “you could perform with me.”

At this Yuta perked up, a grateful expression on his happier face that morphed into joy. It reminded Jaehyun of the sun peaking through the clouds. If possible, he would like to be the one who’d get rid of the clouds so Yuta could shine. 

“That would be really nice, to be honest. Not all dreams come true, but that’s okay. There’s always room for more dreams and opportunities.” Yuta said, maybe convincing himself. “But you’re right, i’d love to see how my pals are.” He intertwined his hand with Jaehyun’s, even if it was for a short while. “Thank you for this.” And for some unknown reason, Jaehyun’s heart skipped more than just one beat. 

 

-

 

“Do you even know where your friends are?”

“Nope, but I know where one is though.” Yuta giggled. Maybe this plan wasn’t that well thought out. 

“We’re just going with the flow. Improvising. Love that.” Yuta, as always, was positive, maybe because he didn’t have anything to lose. 

The first person was Lee Taeyong. According to Yuta, he played the keys as well, was mature and wise, found everything in nothing, admired the nature and the earth, and overall, was a lovely person. Yuta talked about him with a fond smile on his face, Jaehyun guessed they were pretty close. 

“We’re like brothers.” Yuta explained when they were walking in the city, covered in pretty lights, surrounded by skyscrapers and towering buildings. It was only five p.m, but it was already as dark as the night. Yuta was dressed in a long black trench coat, that looked too thin and too cold for this type of weather, but the fluffy grey turtleneck that peeked out of its sleeves and the red scarf around his neck made up for it. He wore black slacks and oxfords, that complimented his outfit and gave him a casual yet smart look. Leather-gloved hands were hidden safe inside Yuta’s pockets, he wore no head accessory so the tips of his ears were slightly pink. 

Yuta reassured that he was warm, but the sniffles and sneezes said otherwise. So Jaehyun took off his own fur hat, already feeling the biting frost at the loss of warmth, and plopped it onto Yuta’s head. The man protested. “What’re you doing?”

“You’re cold.”

“You’re colder.” Yuta retorted. And he was right. Jaehyun wasn’t friendly with negative temperatures. He loathed winter, to say it simply. Everyone saw winter as a magical, festive time of year, but Jaehyun perceived from its less pretty, more realistic side. Slippery icy roads, traffic jams, white snow turning brown, into slush, mud, the huge amount of people in the subway, where it’s extremely hot, the excessive sweating and the unpleasant odor of other sweaty people. Sometimes Jaehyun thinks that he should be more optimistic. 

“Jaehyun, love, i’ve lived in cold climates, you can’t even imagine how freezing it was. This city’s winter is nothing compared to the one in the Hokkaido mountains.” 

“Oh shut up, let me take care of you.” 

“I’m older, I should be taking care of _you_ ,” Yuta laughed.

“How about we make a compromise then, hm?” Jaehyun suggested, taking out his left gloveless hand out of the pocket of his giant, fuzzy winter coat.

“Oh? Do you want my glove?” Yuta took off his right one, handing it over to Jaehyun.

Jaehyun wondered if Yuta really was that clueless, but the man’s teasing smirk and knowing eyes said otherwise. Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, and Yuta gave in. “Okay, okay,” he laughed softly, sliding his hand into Jaehyun’s, and right into Jaehyun’s coat pocket. As Yuta interlaced their hands, both Jaehyun’s palm and cheeks felt much warmer. 

They walked step in step in comfortable silence. Maybe Jaehyun was imagining things, but it looked like Yuta’s cheeks were the same colour as corals. Maybe winter wasn’t so bad.

“We’re the same age, yet I feel like he’s two times older.” Yuta continued talking about Taeyong, “His maturity amazes me sometimes, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has his life together, maybe he’s married or engaged by now,” Yuta said, just as they reached a restaurant on the corner of the street. 

“This is..?”

“Yeah,” Yuta commended, as if reading Jaehyun’s thoughts, “this is Taeyong’s restaurant. Cool, right?”

“Hidden.” Jaehyun read the sign of the restaurant out loud, then read it again. “Hidden?”

“Hidden.”

“Mysterious.”

“Quite. Shall we come in?” 

Jaehyun nodded, letting Yuta go first. 

The subtle smell of wood and fire greeted them once they entered the place. They were surrounded with dim lighting, with an atmosphere of warmth and coziness, mystery and richness. Jaehyun was glad he dressed up for the occasion. Diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting small rainbows over the dark wooden walls, a grand, handmade laced staircase weaved up to the next floor in a wide spiral. The place was spacious, with huge windows that touched the ground. To Jaehyun, it looked old yet futuristic. Taeyong had peculiar taste.

And then the smell of wine hit them, casting a magic spell over their heads, and Jaehyun could practically feel the bitter grape on his tongue, and suddenly he felt hungry. 

“There’s more to the restaurant that it seems.” Yuta told him, walking up to the hostess, who was wearing a red dress and her hair tied with a bun, make-up smokey. “There’s a reason why it’s called ‘Hidden’. Look closer.”

And Jaehyun looked around. At first glance, nothing stood out, but as he focused more, he noticed the tiniest details, that were indeed hidden from the eye. First, lamps in the shape of cages caught his attention, and Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows at the design. The plain, black cages didn’t fit in at all with the posh interior, but after another minute of observing it all made sense. These rather hideous lamps casted shadows in the forms of five thin, a bit faint, horizontal lines that were spread throughout the walls of the floor, that Jaehyun realized was a staff, having the little rainbows reflected onto them from the majestic chandeliers in the form of small music notes. Clever. 

Jaehyun noticed how the notes seemed to always move from the inconsistent reflections, and it seemed as if a subtle melody of shadows was played. Extremely clever.

For a moment he got lost in his thoughts, trying to decipher what the sounds of the rainbow notes would’ve sounded like, imagining their flow in his head. It sounded pretty simple, since there were no chords nor progressions, but good. But then Yuta pulled him back into reality with a simple tug on his sleeve with a sweet smile. “Amazing, right?” Jaehyun hummed in agreement. 

“It’s a shame no one notices. People are too preoccupied with getting their stomachs full, they’re missing out on such gems. Our table is ready by the way, let’s go get our stomachs full too.” And Yuta led the way.

They walked behind the hostess, passing the rows of tables and chairs, along with the soft lounge music that played quietly in the background. Jaehyun detected more hidden details, like the giant treble and bass clefs carved into the parquet. The touch of music related things warmed Jaehyun’s heart, and it was definitely a shame that most people overlooked such things. 

Their table was neat, with blood red napkins contrasting with the beige silky table cloth. The hostess gave them a warm smile, though it was a bit strained, as Jaehyun and Yuta sat down opposite each other, handed them the menu and left. 

“Another thing,” Yuta started, getting Jaehyun’s attention. “You hear the background music? Those are our covers.” He grinned. 

The murmurs of the restaurant guests and the clinking if the cutlery were rather loud, but Jaehyun couldn’t hear them; he was too busy listening to Yuta speak. The latter told him many stories over their appetizer and main course, about his team on Hokkaido, his stay in Sapporo and so on. Jaehyun preferred to eat quietly. 

“Off topic,” Jaehyun stated, “ but you look like someone who has messy handwriting.” Jaehyun said out of the blue. Yuta paused, lowering his knife, “Oh? Well you look like someone whose handwriting is neat.” He said in return. Yuta wasn’t wrong. 

Around the time when Yuta ordered dessert, a man, around Yuta’s age, dressed in a suit, walked up to them. His dark hair was slicked back, his posture was held high and his gaze was piercing. But upon seeing Yuta, his intimidating eyes turned soft in an instant. Jaehyun was a bit taken aback.

“Taeyong!” Yuta waved, and everything fell into place. The man, Taeyong, sat down next to Yuta and Jaehyun, greeting them warmly. “Long time no see, brother.” They shook hands. It was firm. 

“How long has it been?”

Yuta joked, “Over ten years definitely, look how you’ve aged, old man.” 

“You’re the one to speak.” 

“I’m kidding, you’ve definitely aged like fine wine.”

“I’m flattered.” Taeyong chuckled, “Say, Yuta, have you ever tried the actual finest wines?” Yuta shook his head, “I don’t drink. Remember my accident?” He turned to Jaehyun, the latter shook his head. “When your ass of a brother ran you over?” Taeyong asked instead of him.

“Precisely.” Yuta answered, and oh, now Jaehyun remembered. “After that, the doctor advised me four things,” Yuta started to count on his fingers, “not to smoke, not to drink, to breathe fresh air and to do music.”

“And to do music.” They said in unison. Yuta grinned, “You remember me well.”

“Of course,” Taeyong smile was light, “would your companion enjoy the wine instead, then?”

All attention to Jaehyun. “Taeyong, that’s my good friend Jaehyun, he’s also a pianist. An excellent one at that.” Yuta explained and Taeyong extended his hand. When they shook hands, Jaehyun noticed a silver band on Taeyong’s fourth finger. Yuta was spot on yet again. 

“Nice to meet you,” Jaehyun said. 

“Likewise.” A polite smile was sent his way.

The conversation flowed easily from there on. Yuta and Taeyong caught up on the years they’ve haven’t seen each other, and Jaehyun listened. When the rainbow notes waltzed around the whole room, did a whole three-sixty, Yuta asked about the ring.

“Want to explain?”

“This?” Taeyong took the silver band off and showed it off. It was a simple engagement ring, without any diamonds or minerals, minimalistic, with initials engraved onto its insides. Yuta snatched the ring out of Taeyong’s hand eagerly, examining it like a scientist. Jaehyun noticed the way Yuta’s eyes sparkled. 

“Tae, who’s the lucky person?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Taeyong laughed, “Sicheng,”

“No way.”

“Yes way!”

“That shy kid? The son of the CEO? That’s notorious for tax fraud and other crimes?”

Jaehyun blinked twice, and Taeyong nodded once. “That’s him alright.”

“And just how on Earth did he woo you?” Yuta exclaimed, nearly slamming his hands onto the table out of excitement. “You’re an unapproachable as stone, especially since you’re such a law-abiding citizen.”

Taeyong put the ring back on his slender hand, sighing. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time, don’t we?” Yuta turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide and expecting and Jaehyun nodded both out of politeness and curiosity. The background music seemed softer, and the chatting of the other restaurant guests seemed to have quieted down. The time showed nine p.m. It was darker than black outside. 

Taeyong gave in. “Alright then,” he called over the waitress with a high ponytail over. “Miss, could you bring us a bottle of Rosé de Printemps?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“I forgot her name.” he turned back to Yuta and Jaehyun with a serious expression, “I don’t think she knows mine either. Thank god for honorifics.” Yuta suppressed a laugh. “She’s a new employee, but I feel bad nonetheless.”

“That’s okay, you’ve always been bad with names,” Yuta comforted Taeyong, and the latter nodded. “Speaking about names, I couldn’t remember Sicheng’s for about three weeks. He was so offended.” Taeyong spoke in a slow, calm yet light manner. His voice was not that deep, but not to high pitched either. It was pleasant to the ear. He spoke about his fiancé, him starting out in the restaurant business, his fiancé helping him out and went on and on about his life. It was interesting to Jaehyun, Taeyong’s life seemed colourful and dynamic, unlike his own. 

“How’s the wine?” Taeyong asked Jaehyun, swirling his own glass in his hand. 

The wine was indeed very good. Not too bitter, not too strong, it had a strawberry scent and left a sweet aftertaste. It’s rosy coral colour reminded Jaehyun of the spring, of blooming flowers and roses. It was one of the best wines Jaehyun has ever tried. 

“Exquisite.”

“Good to know. Not to boast,” Taeyong totally boasted, “but I have the best wine collection is town. Want to see more?”

“Say no, Jaehyun,” Yuta interrupted, jokingly. “ he’s trying to rope you into buying the damn bottles.”

“Let the man speak for himself! Oh, by the way, are you two together?”

“No, not yet at least,” Yuta said, throwing a small glance towards Jaehyun, a small smirk residing in his face, and Jaehyun felt his face heating up. 

“I see, I see!” Taeyong exclaimed. “Next time then.”

“Next time,” Yuta reassured. 

They stood up and the chairs creaked against the wooden floors in a dissonance. Jaehyun winced. It was rather late, eleven in the evening. The night has long fallen, and the round full moon could be seen from outside the windows, surrounded by heaps of countless stars. Taeyong led them to the entrance to the restaurant, past the occupied tables and halls. 

Jaehyun tried to notice more hidden secrets in the walls or in the paintings, but he was both tired and tipsy, so instead he made a note to visit the restaurant again, hopefully sooner than later. 

“Thank you for the meal, Taeyong.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“This is an extremely extravagant place. But the thought of something missing in the interior has been bugging me all night.” Yuta commented, putting on his coat.

“What exactly?”

“A piano.” Yuta flashed a smile, and Taeyong mirrored one back.

“I wish you the best, pal.” 

“You too. Invite me to the wedding. I’ll play for you.”

“Of course.” They hugged. It was sentimental, tight, Jaehyun could practically feel the warmest and love radiating from Yuta’s and Taeyong’s bond. A pat of the back, another one, and they parted. Two nods, a bow, and Jaehyun walked out of the bar, alongside Yuta. The latter slid his hand back into Jaehyun’s, intertwining their fingers. The night didn’t seem so cold anymore, even despite the first biting on their cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you ask him?” Jaehyun nudged Yuta after a minute of mutual silence. “You look just like Rudolph,” Yuta giggled, pointing to Jaehyun’s nose. Yuta’s was redder. 

“You’re avoiding the question.” 

“Ah,” Yuta sighed, his breath materializing in the form of a puffy cloud that dispersed in a second. “I don’t know.” He drew circles on the snowy pavement with the heel of his boot, they looked like zagged lines, not taking any shape or form. Modern art. 

“It seemed to me, like Taeyong has a lot on his hands. A restaurant to run, a future family to look after. He’s grown well, aged like fine wine. Pun intended. I’m sure if I suggested, he wouldn’t refuse. He’s like that, always going along with everyone’s wishes, he doesn’t have the heart to say no to anything. That’s precisely why I didn’t bring up the question of performing together, besides, he doesn’t even have a goddamn piano in there. It just felt, like, he’s already found what he was looking for, fulfilled his dream, grew out of our little college fantasy.”

“I see,” Jaehyun mummed. He didn’t know what to to say. 

“It’s okay, though, i have another suggestion on my mind.”

“What is it?”

“Um,” Yuta looked a bit shy, which was quite unnatural, “would you like to play with me? We can start as a duet for now. Play in bars and all that jazz. What do you think?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, but then he cracked a smile, mirroring Yuta’s own. “Do you really have to ask?”

 

-

 

The next person was Kim Doyoung. A man in his mid-twenties, a year younger than Yuta, a year older than Jaehyun. A lawyer, working in an office firm, also known as someone with an angelic voice. 

“His voice is the voice of angels themselves,” Yuta spoke, there was a tinge of fondness in his voice, his eyes looked nostalgic, “it’s like the chirping of birds, the jingle of bells, the sound of the heaven doors opening. So beautiful.” 

It piqued Jaehyun’s interest. With the way Yuta spoke about Doyoung, about his feline eyes and curvy smile, it made Jaehyun want to meet him.

“You seem pretty close,” he commented.

“Oh, that’s true, we were quite close.” Yuta said. “We dated. Didn’t last long. Is two years considered long?”

“To each their own.” Jaehyun replied. Now he wanted to meet Doyoung even more, to see what kind of man Yuta had loved. 

“Right. It just didn’t feel right. We were too different, you know? We clashed. Not a good type of clash. Like water and fire, they don’t mix together well.” Yuta gestured an explosion with his hands, followed by a sound effect. “We bickered a lot, argued all the time because of really really petty things, but somehow we made it work for two years. It was back in college though, I guess young people have a lot patience, huh?”

“You’re still young.”

“Oh please, my prime age is long over. Twenty-six is basically the end of life! Look, I think my head is balding.” Yuta joked, pointing at the top of his head.

The two were by their respective instruments, having their usual Friday night session. Yuta went over Miles Davis and Duke Ellington, dumping heaps of notes into Jaehyun’s poor piano. Jaehyun thought it could break any moment under the weight. He skimmed over the notes, analyzing them, before pressing on the keys and letting the subconscious part of him take over. 

Yuta never threw out excessive compliments to anyone, but he just seemed to compliment Jaehyun over every little thing, and Jaehyun felt overly giddy inside. Like a colony of butterflies spread in his stomach, tickling him whilst flying into chaotic direction, multiplying, leaving him feeling warm. It’s a nice feeling, Jaehyun thought.

“You’ve improved so much,” Yuta praised, after listening to Jaehyun improvise, even if it was only for several beats. 

“Thanks to?”

“Yourself, of course!” Yuta said unexpectedly, “the credit is all yours.” Jaehyun liked how confident but humble Yuta was, open and proud about his achievements but never conceited. The list as to why Yuta is an enigma just kept on growing.

“Can you play for me?” Jaehyun asked, resting his chin in his palm and his arm on keys. 

“Mmhm,” Yuta took the saxophone in his hands, took a deep inhale and Jaehyun closed his eyes, imagining the lullaby of the land of the birds. He hummed along the lyrics along Yuta’s melody.

_Have you ever heard two turtle doves_  
Bill and coo when they love?  
That's the kind of magic  
Music we make with our lips when we kiss 

And wow, at this moment, when he sun illuminated both the saxophone and Yuta, turning his hair a shiny gold, reflecting the shadow of his long eyelashes onto his rosy cheeks, lighting up his concentrated face, Jaehyun really did want to taste the magic of his lips, if they ever were to kiss.

Yuta finished Lully of Birdland, and Jaehyun snapped back into reality.

“How was that?” Yuta asked, panting a bit. A permanent smile was residing on his face, he was blinding.

“Breathtaking as always.”

Yuta laughed, throwing his head back. “Do you love jazz yet?”

Jaehyun hummed. “Already do.”

 

Finding Doyoung wasn’t hard. He was well-known around town, one of best lawyers on the block, actually. Unsurprisingly, Yuta had quite a few connections, so after a couple of days of looking here and there they’ve booked an appointment with the ex-vocalist. 

“You have a thing for food, don’t you?” Jaehyun asked Yuta, on the way to a quaint café to meet Doyoung. For the first time this week the sun was out, making the snow glimmer gold and silver. Sparse fluffy clouds were painted on the tranquil blue canvas, however the air was as cold as ever.

Yuta laughed. “These are purely coincidental! But food and music are essential for me.” Relatable. “But most importantly,” Yuta continued, “this café has a stage. You bet we’re going to perform. Why do you think I took my sax with me?” 

“I’d love to see you perform.”

“Trust me you will. That is, if Doyoung would agree. He’s a stubborn cranky ass.”

Jaehyun hummed. He held the door open for Yuta, and the latter called him a gentleman in return. The café was empty, which Jaehyun found quite comfortable. It was cozy, warm, and the aroma of coffee was overflowing. Yuta huddled over to an already occupied table, Jaehyun a few steps behind him.

“Doyoung! Great to see you.” Yuta smiled wide.

“You’re late.” The man, Doyoung, replied instead of a greeting. He put down his newspaper down, folding it neatly, and slowly took off his reading glasses away into the front pocket of his suit. The man was frowning, his sharp eyebrows furrowed. He had slanted dark brown eyes, a pointy nose, thin lips and a sharp jaw. He was very handsome.

“Be polite.” Yuta said with gritted teeth. “I’m with a guest.” And suddenly Doyoung’s demeanor changed, as if a switch had been flipped on. His frown melted into a smile, the crease in his brows disappeared, along with his glare.

“Oh, my apologizes.” Doyoung smiled towards Jaehyun, “I thought Yuta was going to be alone. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Jaehyun bowed.

“What a kissass.” Yuta muttered, sitting opposite of Doyoung and next to Jaehyun. There was a already an empty cup of coffee on the table, along with a half-eaten cheesecake. 

“So what’s the occasion?” Doyoung asked, straightening up. “You know i’m busy.”

“I just missed my favourite person. It’s been a few years.” 

Doyoung didn’t even bat as eyelash. “Quit saying bullshit. What do you need?” 

It was weird to Jaehyun. Yuta and Doyoung bickered a lot. It was playful, but a bit intense. They threw snarky commented towards each other but laughed them off, their form of communication was sarcasm and irony. 

“You haven’t changed at all!” Yuta suddenly exclaimed, “You’re still as cranky and stressed as ever, if not more. How’s it like working with the government which you oh so dislike?”

“Oh, it’s so stressful. Sometime I wish I never strayed from numbers and integrals. But oh well! The pay’s good, so i’ve swallowed my pride and bowed my head down to the ground.”

“You love what you do, huh?”

“Oh, no,” Doyoung shook his head. “I hate this job. People have been testing my last nerves, i’m running out of patience.” He started massaging his temple, “I think another headache is brewing.”

Doyoung was a reserved, well-mannered man. He held his head high and gaze a bit slanted. His jet black hair was parted to the side, and he looked oh so tired, with purple bangs under his eyes and a permanent frown. When he smiled, he looked strained, a bit uncomfortable. An aura of authority and confidence surrounded him, and in that way, he was similar to Yuta. 

He had a good sense of humour, a rich and posh vocabulary. After parting ways with Yuta and his friends, he went to university and finished degree in law. It didn’t take him long to find a job as an advocate. He was fresh, young and eager to work. Only now, after a year, work has drained him out. It was evident, he was overworked. Jaehyun found it easy to find a common language with Doyoung, they were both had the same beliefs towards the government, towards politics and even climate change. 

“What about singing?” Yuta asked somewhere in between his second and third cup of cappuccino.

“What about it?” Doyoung disregarded the question, but Yuta pushed further.

“Do you still sing?”

Doyoung sighed, and whispered softly. “Of course I don’t.” His face was solemn, “I don’t have time.”

“Well, we’ve got to change this then!” Yuta exclaimed, pointing to the empty stage to his left. It was of light wood, the colour of coffee mixed with milk, with a lonely chair and a microphone stand in the center of it with a black piano in the corner. Doyoung blatantly refused. “No way.”

“You can’t say no.”

“Yuta, please, I haven’t sung in months.”

“And so? It’s not like skill can be forgotten. Once you warm up you’ll be as good as new! You need a chance to relax anyways.”

“I don’t have a say in this, don’t I?” Doyoung sounded defeated. 

Yuta shook his head with a square smile. “Come on. It’ll be just like in the old times.”

“I suppose, I should unwind.”

“Yes!” Yuta cheered, “ i’ll get the stage ready.”

Doyoung sat further back, sinking into the turquoise couch. He massaged his temples again and again. “What did I get myself into.” It was a rhetorical question.

“Yuta’s right though,” Jaehyun commented. “You look very stressed.”

“Is it that noticeable?” Upon seeing Jaehyun nod shyly he sighed again. “Well, I haven’t slept in about two days. Let’s see how this goes.” He ordered another cup of coffee, asking for double espresso shots. 

It was still midday, the clock was about to hit thirteen, and the café was still empty. The baristas there looked rather bored from the lack of work, and the lawyer side-eyed them. “Oh how I wish I was them.” He half-whispered. “I worked my ass off for half a year, without rest or any sick leaves, only to get a one week worth of vacation.” Doyoung groaned, shoulders slumping. He looked exhausted. “One! Week! I won’t live past twenty-five. My birthday is in three months.”

Jaehyun patted him on the back as a form of comfort. He wasn’t the best at comforting others, but he was a good listener. “I’m sorry, Doyoung.”

“Oh god, now a stranger is pitying me,” Doyoung groaned again, “okay, enough.” He took a deep inhale, then another one, and exhaled as a completely different person, as if his switch has been turned on again. It was a bit frightening. “I’m okay now,” he reassured, “where were we? Ah, yes, you and Yuta.”

“Believe it or not,” Jaehyun didn’t question what has just happened, he never questioned anything, “he barged into my apartment when I was by the piano, and then we hit off.”

“That’s so like him,” Doyoung giggled, “he hasn’t changed much I see.” 

Jaehyun shrugged. He didn’t know what Yuta was like a couple of years ago, but he had a feeling that he was just as radiant, positive and hardworking as he is now. 

The sound of a musical instrument broke them out of their reverie. Yuta was standing on stage, saxophone in his hands, warming up. His face was passive but his eyes were enthusiastic, gleaming. As he took a deep inhale the café quieted down, even though it was already quiet. A single press onto the left palm key and a soft blow of G minor, and the room was filled with enchantment. 

Yuta played the saxophone with his eyes closed. His face looked so peaceful and undisturbed by the outside noise. As always, he was in his own little bubble of music. Yuta tapped his feet along the beat occasionally, nodding his head or rocking his body back and forth to show more expression and emotion. The piece was upbeat, energetic, even the baristas danced along, whisking away their orders.

The music stopped abruptly, and then started again, this time on a piano, more impactful and much stronger, a bit faster and more lively. Yuta was turned with his back to the audience, but Jaehyun could feel his smile.

“What is he playing?” Jaehyun asked.

“That’s Jordu.” Doyoung sipped on his coffee. Wasn’t that his fifth cup? Jaehyun thought it was rude to ask.

Af is in a musical, people started flowing into the café, trying to listen to Yuta playing. It slowly but surely started filling up with customers, becoming alive and bustling. Jaehyun sighed, content, Yuta does really work magic. The tips of his fingers as if had golden dust on them that made the piano sound more captivating with every touch, but then again Yuta himself was captivating. His arms were fluid, sharp, he didn’t miss a beat, yet he played with freedom and ecstasy. It was contagious. 

By the end of the piece, Yuta turned around to a room full of applauses and cheers. He was pleasantly surprised, bowing and smiling brightly, a bit taken aback by the reaction but still composed. He called Doyoung over on stage, mouthing ‘No turning back now!’ and Doyoung complied. He groaned, but Jaehyun caught the subtle smile on Doyoung’s tired face. He wanted to sing as much as Yuta wanted him to, if not more.

Jaehyun expected them to start their duet, but then Yuta hopped off the stage, walked towards Jaehyun, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the stage again. “What do you mean ‘no’?” Yuta asked. “We’re a team! You can’t protest.”

Jaehyun tried to free from Yuta’s hold, but the latter’s grip was like iron. 

“Yuta, you know I’m not that advanced.”

“Doyoung hasn’t sung in years, the piano is mostly an accompaniment, you’ll be okay. Play with your soul.” He reassured, it wasn’t that effective.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Of course you can! I know you can. Come on, don’t be stubborn like Doyoung.”

Jaehyun sighed. “What are we playing at least?” 

Yuta smiled. “We’ve practiced this before. Almost blue.” 

Jaehyun loved listening to Almost Blue, loved playing it even more. It’s a touching, soul-piercing melody, a bit sad, a bit painful. But that’s what makes it beautiful. Playing to yourself and playing to the public were two different things, and Jaehyun didn’t know if he could convey these emotions like Chet Baker did, but it didn’t hurt to try. He went up on stage, trying to ignore the gazes of the public and the creeping up anxiety from stage fright. A wave of fear rushed over him, nearly swallowing him whole. Just like on the music exam, he felt his blood run cold and his hands getting clammy, but when he looked and Yuta, and then at Doyoung, he knew that things would be okay.

Yuta started off with the alto of his sax, in a slow, dreadful face that contrasted greatly with his previous piece. The atmosphere changed completely, it got much heavier, more quiet, thoughtful. Jaehyun softly pressed into the keys, as lightly as feathers. Hesitantly, he pressed the chords, calmly, slowly. His hands were shaking a bit, but he felt more at peace and more relaxed. Jaehyun closed his eyes and immersed himself into the piece, into the sorrow and all of its beauty. 

Then Yuta took over the lead, adding onto the solemnity. He also played quietly, without rush, without any acceleration. Jaehyun took over then, adding more depth and value into the music, and Yuta followed. They exchanged their solo parts, it went on for minutes, as it was just them, their instruments, and the dismal. 

But then Doyoung started singing. A bit uncertainly, with his hands grilling the microphone, he sang with his mind and heart, and Jaehyun remembered that they weren’t alone. To be frank, Doyoung’s voice was as beautiful as Yuta depicted it to be. Angelic, soft, velvety, smooth, it was everything you could ever ask for. He sung with passion, eyes closed, as if his mind was searching, wandering through the nothingness. He sounded a bit sad, showing his tiredness, but he sang with so much emotion, Jaehyun was utterly touched.

Doyoung voice was a bit hoarse from not being warmed up, it was raw, powerful and moving. It pierced through your soul, leaving a huge mark on your chest. However, it was also comforting, the type of voice you’d listen to on a rainy day, when it’s pouring outside the window and you’re trying to lull yourself to sleep. It was as soft as a lullaby, cradling you, smooth like honey. It was not to deep and not too high, a mezzo soprano. It was perfect. Doyoung had a wonderful gift. 

He didn’t stand out, his solo part wasn’t the main focus of the piece, rather the opposite. Doyoung’s mellow voice blended right in with the music, with the saxophone and the piano. The performance left the audience breathless, including Jaehyun, tore his gaze away from the piano and fixated it somewhere between Yuta and Doyoung.

Unconsciously the sound of the piano became softer, even quieter than before, and the notes completely faded with Yuta’s last blow on the wind-wood. Doyoung stood there in his own little bubble, basking in the milliseconds of silence, snapped back by one clap, then another, and another, and soon they were off the stage, and back in their seats. Jaehyun felt exhilarated, he couldn’t stop both smiling and blushing. 

“That was so relaxing.” Doyoung stretched his muscles. “I think my lifespan increased.”

Yuta chuckled, absentmindedly flipping through the menu again, “I told you so.”

“I hate how you’re always right.”

“I know.” The saxophonist grinned. “And just as I said, Jaehyun, you did really well!” Jaehyun’s ear’s turned involuntarily red. 

“I was this close to messing up.”

“But you didn’t. Did you have fun?”

“I did. I never knew how one can get so much adrenaline from performing. That’s a first for me.”

“That’s good to hear,” Doyoung said. “When you love performing, it could be felt by the audience. It makes your performance much more lovable, worthwhile. Like predators, the audience senses fear, so they’ll know right away if you’re anxious performing. Your hands never lie.”

“Yes, yes,” Jaehyun agreed. “Also, I never knew that jazz could be so sentimental.”

“You learn something new everyday! For example, today I found out that Doyoung is not that big of an asshole as he leads seems to be.”

“You really thought you did something?” Doyoung snapped back, but his eyes were playful. “You didn’t tell me why exactly you wanted to be graced by my presence, by the way.”

“I remembered our college days, when our band was still intact. Kind of missed them, missed you guys.” Yuta scratched the back of his head. Doyoung’s eyes softened, “I missed you guys too. Have you heard from Taeyong?”

“If fact we have! Jaehyun and I visited him yesterday. He’s settled nicely, has a successful, flourishing business, you know, he’s as put together as ever. He’s aged though.”

“I see.” Doyoung hummed, “I never doubted his success, he always was ambitious and hardworking, it payed off. What about from Youngho?”

“I was about to ask you the same question. I haven’t. I only know of him immigrating to America, to New York, was it? That’s all.”

“I see,” Doyoung said again, drumming his fingers against the hard surface of the coffee table. “It’s a bit sad how we all fell out of touch.” 

“I know. We’re all pretty occupied with work, huh? It’s been a couple of years. That’s why I want to go see Youngho.”

Both Doyoung and Jaehyun perked up. “You want to go to the states? Are you out of your mind?”

“No, my head’s fine. Though I feel like after the accident my skull got thicker…”

“Yuta, get your head out of the clouds. Youngho is far far away. Where will you even look for him? You don’t know what the states are like, nor do you know English. Think a bit more realistically. You don’t have a starting point, this is absurd!”

“Um,” Jaehyun interrupted, “actually, i’ve lived in Boston for a couple of years. I studied there, travelled a lot. Also, I know English, i’m fluent.” 

Doyoung’s face looked blank for a second, meanwhile Yuta’s gained more colour. It became more bright, cheeks more rosy, and Jaehyun could feel his own cheeks becoming cherry-like. “Jaehyun!” He practically squealed. “You’re a godsend!”

“This is ridiculous.” Doyoung muttered.

“Everything is ridiculous in this life, yet we don’t question most things. For example, why is the sky blue? The grass green? How do ants carry all that weight on their tiny backs? Why don’t we question these things anymore?”

“Do you really not realize there’s a scientific explanation for this? You’re good at physics, you should– oh, you’re messing with me.”

“You’re as still as naïve.” Yuta grinned, then turned to Jaehyun, “Have you been to New York?”

Jaehyun’s answer is direct and bold. “I know Manhattan like the back of my hand.”

“Are you really set on going there?” Doyoung faltered, “it’s dangerous.”

“Life itself is dangerous.” Yuta’s retorted, standing up, “are you really living if you haven’t experienced anything?” 

“I guess.” Doyoung hummed. “Be safe!”

“I will! I’ll send you a post card.” Yuta winked.

“Please do. With the Statue of Liberty, or with the Empire state Building. Take pictures!” 

“You can count on me.” Was what Yuta said, before walking up to the counter to ask for the check.

“Please care of him, please,” Doyoung asked Jaehyun, and Jaehyun could sense the sincerity behind Doyoung’s usually sarcastic eyes. 

“I will. Take care of yourself too.” Jaehyun affirmed, and Doyoung smiled genuinely for the first time this afternoon. His feline eyes became rounder, softer, and his smile displayed rows of gummy teeth. He looked more youthful, as if the chains of responsibilities have been lifted off his shoulders. Jaehyun told Doyoung to smile more, the latter said no promises, but now his smile resembled a grin. 

Yuta returned, looking more energetic than usual. “You won’t believe what just happened.”

Doyoung cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“So I got the bill, and was about to complain, because who charges so much for only seven cups of coffee? Outrageous. We live in a capitalistic society.” He huffed, “anyways, before I could make a fuss the owner of this place said that our cappuccinos are on the house, as a thank you for such a wonderful performance. God, love this privilege.”

“You’re just a cheapskate.”

“So are you.”

“Touché.” 

They exited the café, as the warm, coffee-scented air got replaced by the cold frost and the smell of nature. They parted ways with hushes goodbyes and promises to stay in touch.

Yuta and Jaehyun walked in silence, strolling around the neighborhood without an aim, with no destination to reach, it was a pleasant walk. Jaehyun focused on the chirping of the birds in the nests of the bare trees, stopped to pet a stray cat with a black and white coat and a torn ear, smiling when the cat started purring loudly. Yuta remained quiet.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You.” He said, and Jaehyun was caught off guard. He stopped stroking the cat, to which the animal just meowed in displeasure.

“Oh?”

“Mmhm,” Yuta hummed, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I keep thinking about how amazing you are.”

“Me?” Jaehyun blinked in disbelief, “What did I do?”

“There’s a lot to mention. The fact that you made such a smooth transition from classical music to jazz, you’re a professional there yet a novice here, and you’re always willing to learn more and improve, and that’s really admirable.” Jaehyun could feel a blush arising. “Then, you’ve been so supportive of me. You’re tagging along with me, meeting new people when you’re naturally really shy, and you don’t even complain when you get left out of the conversation. You’re so likable, both Taeyong and Doyoung adore you, i’m sure Youngho would too. And you keep encouraging me to pursue my desire to become a musician, thank you for that, really.” The sincerity in Yuta’s voice was striking. 

“You’re always welcome.” Jaehyun replied. His heart was beating fast and his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so wide. He tired to remember every single word Yuta said and store it at the back of his mind, but he already forgot half of the things mentioned. Yuta’s sudden confession stirred something inside of him that made him feel warm inside, made his heart flutter and smile subtly, and most of all, it made Jaehyun think if he was the only one out of them that had stars in his eyes and a mind full of fantasies. 

 

-

 

Jaehyun never imagined going to New York any time soon, especially not with someone. That someone being Yuta. It took them several weeks to prepare for the trip, the visa applications being a hassle, Yuta being overly enthusiastic in not only finding Youngho, but also exploring the west side of the world. The spontaneous trip cost them quite a lot, but the funds weren’t much a problem. The café where the pair met up with Doyoung offered Yuta a chance to perform, for quite a good price, and Yuta, a lover of both performing and money, took up on the offer. 

They took a cab to the airport early in the morning, when the dawn was about to break. They drove in silence, amongst the dissipating pinkish clouds and the sun rising over the bleeding horizon. Yuta was asleep on Jaehyun’s shoulder for most of way there.

“I’ve actually flown above North America when I was going to the North Pole.” Yuta said after their check-in. “I’ve always wondered what was it like down there on the mainland.”

“North Pole? What brought you there?”

“Work.” Yuta said lightly. “I stayed there for a couple of days. The northern lights were unforgettable.”

“Ah, it must’ve been lovely.”

“It was! Really cold though.”

Jaehyun checked the time on his grandfather’s wristwatch. “The plane is boarding soon.”

“Let’s get going then.” Yuta fixed the collar of his faded blue shirt and looked in his pocket mirror, angling it towards his face and hair. 

“How do I look?”

“More than great.”

The flight was long, really long. Jaehyun sat by the window, watching the propellers twisting, watching the plane take off smoothly, watching the houses, roads and cars becoming smaller and smaller, until they became nothing but a speck of dust; he looked out of the window until they entered the tranquil state of the grey clouds and emerged out of them into the ultramarine sky and the blinding sun. 

At some point Jaehyun’s eyes started getting droopy from gazing at the different-sized marshmallows outside the window, where it looked so peaceful and undisturbed. The soft buzzing of the airplane was somehow lulling him into a dream-like state, and before he knew it, he dreamt off. After a few minutes, or maybe even hours, a soft tug and an even softer voice woke him up.

“Wake up,” Yuta poked his cheeks, “Food’s ready.”

Airplane food is never the best, but it was enough to fill your stomach for a couple of hours. Jaehyun stayed awake for the rest of the flight, listening to Yuta talk more about himself.

“I was sent to an expedition to the Soviet Union, that was back when I lived in Hokkaido, to Sakhalin, on a helicopter. We flew so close to the mountains, so close to the Ohotsk sea. It was a memorable experience. It was me and and two more of my coworkers, they were twice as old as me. I had a lot to learn from them.” Yuta went on, painting a vivid picture in Jaehyun’s mind. “We stayed for a few days in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, then went further up North, and eventually ended up in Kamchatka. And, Jaehyun, I remember it as clear as day, when the helicopter dropped me off in a field, and the pilot said he’ll return in a few hours, and when he took off, I realized that I was alone. On foreign land. With no guarantee of the helicopter returning after me. A tsunami of panic rushed over me, that’s when I felt fear. God, I was so frightened. It was so scary. Beautiful, but scary. The soviet scenery didn’t do much to calm me down.” Yuta retold, as if living through his adventure over again. He seemed to talk on hours on end, somehow he always had something to tell, something to share, and it was amazing how much Yuta has seen, even though he was so young. 

Jaehyun didn’t even notice how the pilot announced that the plane was about to descend. He buckled up tighter, stowing in the table, and looked out of the window again. The blue hues turned into grey, and soon they landed into rainy New York.

The Big Apple was just like Jaehyun remembered. Vast yet small, spacious yet tight, free but caging. Jaehyun rented a blue Ford, throwing a part of his budget down the drain. He sat on the black leather seats, turned on the radio station to a talk show, waited for Yuta to close the door of the passenger seat and drove off. The drive was rather quiet. Yuta was busy looking at the towering sky scrapers that followed them everywhere they drove to, just like the moon that faced you no matter which direction you were in. 

They parked near a motel, somewhere in the suburbs of the state, along a highway. The lobby was neat, yet everything else was a bit run down, but it was just fine. They checked in a rather small, simple room, with shabby beige wallpapers, a dripping sink and two beds. There wasn’t too much space, but it wasn’t too cramped either. 

“Wow, these are just like the ones in the movies!” Yuta sounded delighted.

“I guess not all things in Hollywood are fake,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath, throwing his suitcase right onto the end, clicking the locks open and taking all of his stuff out. Suits, toiletries, books, even notes. “Jaehyun, you took the most useless and boring things.”

“Says the one who took the saxophone.” And Yuta gasped. “We’re inseparable. We’re like yin and yang, can’t live without one another. Our bond is stronger than human friendships.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“That’s right! Shall we go exploring now?”

“Now?” Jaehyun looked at his wristwatch. It showed seventeen hundred. It wasn’t too late. Spring was approaching, so the says deemed longer, warmer, or at least, the illusion of it seemed to be that way. 

“Yes! I heard New York is beautiful at night.”

“It is. But aren’t you tired?”

“As hell! But if I stay in this lousy motel and sleep things off I won’t see the world now, would I? Time is money.”

“You’re right,” Jaehyun chuckled, taking a few bills out of his wallet and storing them in his suitcase. “That’s if we get mobbed, we’d still have money.”

“Dangerous, huh?”

“Quite. Especially in alleyways, you might want to stray from them.”

“Noted,” Yuta said, “though I doubt i’d go somewhere without you. You’re like a free tour guide!” He put on a brown coat, wrapped himself in a huge red scarf, and waited for Jaehyun to get ready.

And Yuta wasn’t disappointed. The night city was something else, like a whole new world, a world of The lights from the skyscrapers replaced the stars, it was dark, yet it was so bright outside because of the billboards and adverts, one might confuse it with day. 

It wasn’t as cold outside, the temperature was almost pleasant, as pleasant as March can get. Jaehyun followed the familiar streets in Times Square, remembering every nook and cranny of the area, feeling nostalgic. And Yuta too, despite never stepping foot into America or understanding the language, felt like home. Jaehyun thought that no matter where Yuta was, he felt the same way, but then again, the world itself is a big home, not only a piece of it, not only the place where you were born. However, it felt as if Yuta was made for New York exactly. He blended it with he atmosphere, with the spirit of freedom, he truly felt like himself. “Jaehyun, this place is so atmospheric.” Yuta clasped his hands, “I can finally sing Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York’ and relate to it, oh how I relate to the words!”

Sightseeing is nice, but stumbling upon a jazz bar is even nicer. It didn’t stand out, blended in with the alley, if not for the lighted up saxophone glowing on brick walls, then Jaehyun would’ve walked past it. But Yuta’s eyes were as cautious as a hawks, so he grabbed Jaehyun’s hand and dragged him inside.

A tall woman in her thirties with winged eyeliner and dark brown hair, wearing a black slim dress, greeted them with a polite smile. Yuta didn’t understands an ounce of what she told Jaehyun, but he noticed Jaehyun’s own smile wavering, nearly frowning, and then he noticed Jaehyun’s hesitance when he reached for his wallet and took out two green fifty dollar bills. 

The woman led them to a small square table fatback from the stage. The place was dark, the only lighting being provided by the nearly melted candles on the wooden tables and the dim lights on the stage. The place was cramped, people were sitting close to each other, which was common, but for Jaehyun it was a tad bit uncomfortable. 

Every guest was dressed up: men in suits and women and dresses, even though the place wasn’t fancy or that well-known. 

“What did she say to you earlier?” Yuta asked, trying to make sense of the words on the menu, but giving up after trying to pronounce ‘champagne’. 

“That we’re just in time for the eight p.m show.” 

“What did you pay her for?”

“The admission is fifty dollars. Not that cheap, huh?”

“Is that a lot?”

“Much more than what’s asked for in Korea.”

Yuta huffed. “I would’ve made a fortune by now then if I worked here.”

“If you worked here the admission would be over one-hundred, definitely.” Jaehyun said to which Yuta laughed. 

“Is it possible to perform here? Today?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jaehyun hummed, “what would you like to order? We have to order something.”

“A beer.”

“Dark? Light?”

“Dark beer is always good.” Yuta commented.

Jaehyun ordered two beers just as the performance was about to start. 

A large, middle-aged man went on stage, instantly surrounded by spotlight. His skin was tan and his hair was black towards the roots and ash grey towards the ends. He was wearing round, thick framed glasses, a patterned necktie, a grayish suit and a black ivy hat. His fashion sense wasn’t the best. The man took out a bright, new trumpet out of his case, said something into the microphone that Yuta couldn’t understand. His words were unintelligible to him, but actions speak louder than words, right? Yuta sensed the man’s enthusiasm and positivity, even though he was sitting far back from the stage.

“He said he’s about to play Take Five.”

“Lovely choice.” 

“Certainly,” Jaehyun sipped on his beer. It burned his throat, but the aftertaste was exquisite. Under the light buzzing in his ears he kind of missed America, the laid-back atmosphere and the illusion of freedom. 

The trumpeter was great, more than great. He was professional, new his way around the stage and around the spectator’s hearts. Yuta listened to him with his eyes closed, slightly bobbing his head and occasionally drumming his fingers against the rough table. The people watched the performer, but Jaehyun watched Yuta. Yuta looked so at peace, so in his element. His features were relaxed, peaceful, and he looked so gentle. 

“Stop staring.” Yuta cracked an eye open. Jaehyun quickly averted his gaze. 

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Mmhm, right.” Yuta rested his face on his arm, looking over at Jaehyun, and Jaehyun was grateful for the practically nonexistent lighting, as his face was burning a deep red. Jaehyun hated that he blushed so easily, and he refrained from looking at Yuta’s direction out of embarrassment. He focused his gaze on the man on the stage, and basked in the soft melody of All Blues, in the subtle sounds of the drums and the occasional piano. He drowned his thoughts in the hotness of the venue and the light smell of the alcohol, and momentarily closed his eyes. As if his hearing got enhanced, Jaehyun could make out the smallest details in the surrounding sounds. The couple next to them talking about planning a visit to the neighboring state in hushed whispers, a waiter’s loud footsteps, cutlery being put down– everything. It was a bit distracting from the the blues, but it felt right. It fit in with the environment, the rich music contrasting with the poor bar.

Somehow, they balanced themselves out. 

When Jaehyun finally opened his eyes, he felt Yuta’s gaze on him. 

“What happened to ‘no staring’?” 

Yuta said something, but it was filtered out by the trumpet. “Come again?”

“I said,” Yuta cleaned closer, whispering into Jaehyun’s ear. His raspy voice sent a jolt of electricity down Jaehyun’s spine. “You’ve finally given me an opportunity to look at you, and you know damn well i’ll take it.”

“You’re going to give me heart attack.”

“No deaths until we perform at least nineteen times together!”

“Why exactly nineteen?”

Yuta thought for a moment. “It’s a nice number. I relate it to age. You’re still young, get you’re considered an adult. Also, it was when I was sent to my first expedition, maybe that’s why.”

“You’ve seen so much already.” Jaehyun mused, counting Yuta’s eyelashes. 

“Adventures don’t have an age limit,” Yuta answered, giving Jaehyun a soft look. He always seemed to look at Jaehyun softly. “We can experience much more, together.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The track of time has been lost in the music, the beers and shy glances, and eventually Yuta asked. “So, about performing. You up for it?”

Jaehyun yawned. “Why not? Let me ask the waitress.” He called a young woman over, said something incomprehensible to Yuta, and the woman nodded, saying something just as foreign back.

Jaehyun got up after she left. “We’re lucky today. There’s a free spot at eleven thirty. We have to run over some things backstage though.” he extended his hand for Yuta to take, helping him up. 

“Just like that? No other questions asked?” Yuta was in disbelief.

“Mmhm, performers are always welcome here.”

“Perfect.” Yuta said. “I don’t have my saxophone with me though.” 

“Can you sing?”

“Not really, i’m often off tone.” Yuta shook his head. “My choir teacher despised me. I had the lowest marks in choir, but I wasn’t tone deaf, at least I think I wasn’t, just shy. Hated it myself.”

“No one’s perfect, huh.” Jaehyun muttered aloud, amused.

“What?”

“Nothing. How about you play piano then?”

Yuta cracked his knuckles, nodding. “What about you?” 

“I’ll sing.”

“Oh?” there was a sly smile on Yuta’s face. “I like this turn of events.”

The backstage was small. There were a few people running back and worth, and Jaehyun spotted the previous performer sitting on a chair, wiping his sweat. The same waitress walked up to them, tapping Jaehyun on the shoulder. “You have room for two performances. The crowd is easy to please, needn’t be worried.” Jaehyun thanked her and she hurried off. 

Yuta cracked his knuckles again. “Let’s test the waters.” Jaehyun nodded. “Which pieces can you sing?”

“With your help i’ve practically learned Frank Sinatra’s entire discography by heart.”

“Radios are a wonderful thing. They just may be mankind’s best invention!”

“How old-fashioned of you. Compact disks are in the trend right now.”

“What can I say,” Yuta shrugged, “i’m pretty old fashioned. What’ll you sing?”

“Hm,” Jaehyun thought for a moment. “Come fly with me.” 

“Good choice!” 

“How about also Witchcraft?”

“You can’t go wrong with Frank.”

“Absolutely.”

Jaehyun walked up on stage first, trying to ignore the crowd. Normally, he would have felt a bit frightened and nervous by the blinding spotlight and everyone’s eyes on him, but the two pints of beers relaxed him enough. He felt calm. The microphone stand was adjusted to his height, and Jaehyun regretted not warming up his voice, but it was fine. 

His mind kind of blanked out, and he forgot introducing himself, or saying into the mic what he was about to sing, but then Yuta’s piano brought him back into reality. He took a deep sign and breathed into the microphone. It felt good to sing again. He took off his glasses, instantly surrounding himself in blurriness and comfort. It was a habit; to get rid of one sense to enhance another, focus on it entirely. The indistinguishableness of everything was complacent, and Jaehyun relished in it.

“Come fly with me, we’ll fly, we’ll fly away.” He begun, not daring to open his eyes. He sung about Peru, about Acapulco Bay, imagining as if he was singing not to the crowd, but to Yuta. Imagining a million scenarios of them traveling, performing, being together. “Once I get you up there, i’ll be holding you so near, you might hear,” Jaehyun sung softly, mellowly, clearly, “all the angels cheer because we're together.” His voice was a deep baritone, smoother than caramel. It was gentle, warm, grounding, pleasant to the ear. More than pleasant. 

As Jaehyun continued singing, he heard that Yuta’s piano playing skills improved drastically. All while teaching Jaehyun how to adjust to jazz, he learned himself. He was fluid, probably as fluid as he was once before, in high school, if not more. He didn’t miss any notes, played clearer, almost like a professional, all while pouring out his positivity out onto the keys. 

When Jaehyun was singing Witchcraft, he thought of Yuta again. His alluring gaze, his presence, blinding smile, kind eyes and his big heart, how Yuta is like a sun, Jaehyun is merely a planet orbiting around it. Somehow, when he sings love songs, Jaehyun always thinks of Yuta. Minutes passed, the song is over, and Jaehyun puts on his glasses back on, squinting because suddenly everything is in high resolution. He smiled at the applauses that filled the room, it’s a nice feeling that warmed his chest.

He bowed several times, saw Yuta walk up to him, and they walked down the stage together. Someone pats him on the back, another person gives him a thumbs up. It’s reassuring. 

“You never told me you could sing that well.” Yuta said, slinging his arm over Jaehyun’s shoulder. 

“You never asked.” Jaehyun trying to ignore the feeling of his beating rapidly both from exhilaration and Yuta’s close proximity. Walking up to their spot, he noticed that there were two more beers on their table, the foam nearly spilling over the glass mug. “Did you order more?” Yuta asked, curious. Jaehyun shook his head.

“I did.” An unfamiliar voice said in English. It was the voice of a short man, with fiery red hair that was swept across his head, in a comma style, he was dressed in a neat suit, he was young, looked a bit older than Jaehyun, but not too much. His eyes were questioning. 

“Good evening,” Jaehyun nearly stuttered, a bit tired and very surprised, “please, sit down.”

The man smiled, “I’ll be quick,” but before he could continue further, he asked, “does your friend here speak English?” Jaehyun denied. 

“My apologies,” the man switched to Korean, and Yuta’s previously bored eyes widened. “Introductions first. I’m Moon Taeil, from an agency that’s looking for young artists from around the globe. Your performance is _just_ what I needed, it was absolutely magnificent! It conveyed the soul of jazz. You’re a talented bunch.” Taeil spoke slowly, coherently, he looked and sounded sober, smelled of rich cologne; he definitely here for job purposes. 

Yuta listened to him, giving polite smiles at the compliments but still looking a bit wary of the stranger. Jaehyun didn’t interfere. 

“So, the main reason why i’m disturbing your peace,” Taeil joked, loosening his necktie, “I’d like to know if you would like to sign to our company’s label.” He took out a business card from the front pocket of his suit. It was plain white, with black and gold letters imprinted on it in cursive. It shone weakly under the candle light. “We support and guide artists in the right direction, we can give you fame and money, anything you want!” He slid the card over in between Yuta and Jaehyun. Yuta eyed the card, looking interested while Jaehyun remained passive. “If you guys want to make it big, then you need a head start.” Taeil said, taking out a cigar and a lighter, then putting them right back. Another time. “Last thing.” Taeil seemed busy for today, his tired eyes said so. “Call me if you’re interested. Or show up to this address,” he pointed to the bottom left of the card, “and if anyone asks, tell them I sent you.” He explained. “Think about it. The music industry is competitive. But I think you guys have what it takes, I know talent when I see it.” And on that note the man with the flaming hair bowed and left.

“What was that..” Jaehyun blinked. Things were going too fast for him. Spontaneousness is nice, but only to some extent. Today, it was overwhelming.

“Hm,” Yuta hummed, mindlessly fiddled the card between his long fingers. “A possible contract with the devil.”

“Huh?”

“Freedom for the price of fame, or fame for the price of freedom? What do you value most?” Yuta directed the question at Jaehyun. “Freedom, I guess.” He answered after some thought. Making ends meet wasn’t an issue for him, he earned quite a lot working as an accompanist for a rather famous opera singer when he was still a student in his conservatory, but even if he was low on money, he wouldn’t succumb to materialistic needs. Money is something of big value, something important, but if it starts to be your main goal, your aim, drive and stimulation– then you’re not an artist, but a mere craftsman. 

“For me too.” Yuta smiled, and was about to fold the paper card in half, but then decided against it. “I’ll keep it just in case. Let’s go outside?”

“Let’s.” 

Jaehyun payed this time for their drinks and they left the bar. It was insanely chilly outside, as per usual, the wind hit their faces, lightly, but even then, Jaehyun felt as if he was a marshmallow floating in a warm cup of cocoa. Quite contrasting. It was late. Apparently, the pair lost track of time ever since entering the shabby bar, but it’s not like either minded. The walk to the car took several minutes, past the narrow street and wide avenues. Jaehyun walked step in step with Yuta, pace matching, under the clear starless sky. The moon was bright, but when is it not? Almost as if on instinct, Yuta’s hand found Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun noticed that their hands fit together, like two puzzle pieces, as cliché as it sounded. He smiled to himself, feeling much warmer than before. If anyone looked closer, they’d notice flowers blooming under Jaehyun’s feet as if they melted the snow with every step. Today was a pretty good day. 

 

-

 

The search for Youngho has been postponed for a week. In the meantime, Yuta and Jaehyun spent their week on loitering around, getting acquainted with New York, it’s in and outs, it’s best and worst sides, the food, the culture, visiting other underground jazz bars, performing in them, (this time Yuta made sure to bring his saxophone with him), meeting people of the same interest circle. It was a productive week, yet not productive at the same time.

Snow melted slowly but steadily, the ground unfreezed its tears and washed them away down the drain, getting ready to start anew. Just like the earth has moved on, Jaehyun and Yuta should have started moving too. Time was ticking; they had three wore weeks left in the states. 

“Any idea where your friend is?” Jaehyun asked over breakfast. 

“Youngho. Right,” Yuta nearly forgot, “Nope.” He flipped through an english-japanese dictionary, immersed in the words and their definition. “How do you pronounce this?” He pointed to ‘baguette’. 

“First of all, just like in japanese. Second of all, we’re straying from our main objective.” Jaehyun cocked an eyebrow. 

“Relax, I’m just messing around. I’ve looked at a handful of phone books and address books and got nothing.” Yuta sighed, sweeping the fringe out his place. His dirty blond bangs were getting quite long, getting in the day of his rich dark eyes, but nevertheless, Yuta looked good. Yuta always looked good. 

“Do you think he’s working in the music industry?”

“Anything is possible,” Yuta said, sipping on his orange juice, cringing a bit from its bitterness. “He’s always loved writing though. Reminds me of him writing songs for us too. He had some of the most sappy, poetic, best lyrics ever. I wonder if he’s a songwriter, though he might be an author, a poet, a magazine critic, who knows?”

“Writing, huh? Let’s see if he’s written any published books.”

Skimming through libraries and book shops didn’t do too well, though Jaehyun did buy several copies of The Great Gatsby and Two Young Lions, Yuta, on the other hand, often strayed to the children’s section, where he could actually comprehend the latin letters. 

And so another week flew by, like a gentle breeze, and Yuta was getting restless. “I don’t know what else to do, except one thing.”

“Which is?”

Yuta took out the folded paper card, with gold and black ink imprinted on it, from his front pocket. “To contact Taeil.”

Jaehyun took it out of Yuta’s hands, trying to make out the nearly smudged address. “It’s not that far from here. Probably twenty minutes by car. Want to go now?”

“We can’t afford to lose any more time. Let’s get going.”

The agency was located in a skyscraper, on the seventeenth floor. It was a neat office, light and spacious, something Jaehyun had seen in movies countless times. Records of other artists hung on the walls, along with certificates– this place seemed demanded. Yuta walked behind Jaehyun, admiring the minimalistic interior and the golden trophies behind the glass. Jaehyun walked ahead, up to the reception desk. A young-looking woman in rectangular glasses and bright red lips greeted him, she gave him a customer service smile, but it looked warm and genuine, and overall seemed friendly. 

Jaehyun showed her the visit card. “We’re here from Moon Taeil.”

“Ah!” Her face turned even more amiable. “Give me a moment.” She quickly dialed a number on the black wired telephone, the other end the line having picked up after two rings. After a few words, she put the phone back. “Mr. Moon says he’s ready to see you. Down the hallway and to the right, please!” she gestured the directions with her hands. Jaehyun bowed deeply and called Yuta over. 

Taeil’s office was simple as well, except for a big red carpet that laid over the parquet, and a phonograph on the mahogany desk. The walls weren’t bare, they were covered in framed vinyl records with autographs, giving off a high sense of accomplishment. And in the middle of it all sat Taeil, in a large leather chair that shrunk him even more. His hair looked even brighter, brighter than the carpet. 

“Good to see you again! Have you made up your minds?” He stood up to shake Yuta’s hand, then Jaehyun’s. His hand was a bit frail, but his grip was strong. 

“I have a request.” Yuta answered. “I’m looking for a person, I wonder if you know him.”

“I know many people, Mr. Yuta. Please, be more specific.” 

“Seo Youngho. Does it ring a bell?”

“A tiny bit. Sounds familiar.”

“Now, Mr. Taeil,” Yuta said, “we don’t have much time here left, and we’d really to see Youngho before we must depart.”

“I understand,” Taeil said, nodding, “I understand. I’ll ask my people to look for him. We have an advanced team, your friend will be found in no time.”

“But?”

“How sly of you, yes, there’s a ‘but’.” Taeil’s eyes glimmered. “There’s no reason to sign any contract since you’re not staying here permanently, but recording at least one of your covers– that’s your free price. I’m willing to pay you if you take up this offer.”

“Deal.” Yuta declared, without missing a beat. This was an easy trade.

“Any songs of your choice. You’re fee to do whatever you want.”

“That’s perfect.” Yuta said. “I’ll be relying on you, Mr. Moon. Have a good day.” 

Jaehyun bowed too. “Thank you a lot.” 

Taeil waved him off, “please, this won’t burden me at all. Besides, I can feel how Mr. Yuta wants to own his own vinyl record. His mouth may decline my offers, but his eyes say otherwise. Good luck to you both.”

“Thank you again.” Taeil just smiled at him, waving his hand, then turned his attention to the stack of papers on his dash as Jaehyun exited the office.

Choosing songs for the EP didn’t take a lot of brainstorming. Yuta wanted to include both him playing the saxophone and Jaehyun singing, both of them playing piano to show their versatility and capabilities, their best sides, make this record their first but not their last. 

“Do you want a solo?” Yuta asked, sitting on the couch of their hotel room. He was writing the combinations of songs in a notebook with an ink pen messily, crossing things out with squiggly lines and getting his wrist smudged. Just as Jaehyun thought, Yuta’s handwriting was nearly unintelligible. 

“What?” 

“A whole song, for you to play. Would you like that?”

Jaehyun didn’t know how to feel. “I don’t know if i’m good enough,” he said scratching the back of his head. 

Yuta’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course you are. What makes you say that you’re not?”

Jaehyun shrugged. After years of being ridiculed by teachers and professors he’s really not that sure of his capabilities anymore. 

“Jaehyun,” Yuta’s eyes softened, his lips turned a bit downwards. “I don’t think you see _how_ great you are.” He put down his notebook, and walked towards Jaehyun, who was standing near the kitchen counter, his frown deepening. Jaehyun didn’t say anything back. He didn’t know what to say. 

Yuta’s heels clacked again the parquet, and be gently cupped Jaehyun’s cheeks, which flamed instantly. A typhoon of emotions swirled in Jaehyun’s stomach, adding to his fastening heartbeat. “Jaehyun,” Yuta’s voice was soft, his eyes were kind and starry, though to Jaehyun Yuta’s eyes always held galaxies in them. “If you weren’t an amazing musician I don’t think I would’ve fallen for you from the first day we met. Later? Probably. But right away? Don’t think so. You took my breath away by that prelude, so give yourself some credit.” 

And the waves crashed. 

“Oh.” Jaehyun held in a breath.

“Oh,” Yuta smiled of so warmly, and Jaehyun felt a flurry of emotions weave through him. They seemed everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Ubiquitously, they compressed themselves into a black hole and then exploded into millions of particles. 

“Oh.” Jaehyun said again, stunned. 

“Mmhm,” Yuta hummed, lightly caressing Jaehyun’s cheekbones, his touches making flowers bloom in Jaehyun’s heart. Yuta looked at him with so much fondness and sincerity, Jaehyun wanted to combust. Yuta’s reassuring gaze fell from Jaehyun’s eyes to his nose, then onto his lips, it lingered there for a second longer, though he didn’t make any moves to lean closer and close the gap between them, and Jaehyun didn’t either. “You should accept compliments, not reject them, especially when they’re coming from bottom of the heart,” Yuta said, looking up into Jaehyun’s caramel eyes. “You’re nonpareil at music. You’re a musician, you dedicated your whole life to black and white notes, spent years honing your skill, you’re undeniably good. You should realize that.” Yuta leaned away sooner than Jaehyun had wanted, taking the warmness of his hands with him. Jaehyun wanted noting more than to pull his back in, but refrained from so. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I say we should take it. What do you think?”

Jaehyun’s heart has never felt as full of love and life. “I agree.” 

In the end, Jaehyun picked the piece the started that it all – Chopin’s prelude in E minor. A piece that he found close to heart, and it partly had to do with Yuta’s liking to it. He thought deeply how he could rearrange it, so it would sound even impactful, more arduous yet simple, how to convey its sadness and heartache. It took him a week, confined in Taeil’s office, to find an answer. 

“How’s it going?” Taeil asked, handing over a bottle of water to Jaehyun, who was mindlessly, quietly pressing H minor chords. Yuta was sitting in the same room on the couch, listening to Jaehyun improvise and compose, watching an artist at work. 

“Figuring it out. How’s the search going for you?” 

“I was about to say that we have good news.” 

“Don’t tell me you finally know where Youngho is.” Yuta interrupted.

“Oh, but we did.” Taeil raised his eyebrows, “Only the man goes by John now. Mr. John Seo.”

Yuta couldn’t contain his excitement, he nearly squealed. “How?” 

Taeil boasted, “We got sent a letter, asking if one of our singers could get interviewed, and guess who the journalist was?”

“Youn- John.” Yuta whispered. He was over the moon from hearing the news, but at the same time he couldn’t grasp his head around it. “Where is he?”

“Downstairs.”

“You’re kidding.” He said flatly.

“Nope,” Taeil reassured, “He’s here for the aforementioned interview.”

“Oh my god, Jaehyun, oh my god.” Yuta’s mind nearly exploded. “Taeil, oh my god.” Taeil laughed, cheeks glowing slightly, “Go downstairs, i’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.” Yuta nodded, ungluing Jaehyun from the piano and dragging him to the floor below. Jaehyun tripped quite a few times, but he felt excited nonetheless. On the corner, Yuta bumped into a tall man, carrying a briefcase, and he stumbled back, balance off. He looked up into the man’s confused expression and eyes, and his own eyes widened. “Youngho!”

“Yuta?” Youngho asked, even more surprised. “Is this really you? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m here to see you, actually.” 

Youngho laughed. “It’s so unexpected to see you. You haven’t changed at all, my god!” Youngho rambled on. He was really talkative, loquacious, a bit like Yuta in this sense. 

“You neither!” Yuta exclaimed. “Did you get taller?” He joked. “You’re like a walking tree. Oh, I have so many things I want to talk about with you, but first of all, this is Jaehyun, my good friend.” Yuta introduced them to each other and Jaehyun waved shyly. 

“Oh, hello!” Youngho said, sheepishly, shaking hands with Jaehyun. His eyes crinkled around the corners, like little moon crescents, and Jaehyun was amazed by how friendly and smiley Youngho was. He has the atmosphere of an american.

Youngho – or as he liked to call himself – Johnny, treated them for a burger or two in a traditional diner, since it was the afternoon and a weekday. It looked, to say simply but not to stereotype, extremely american. “I’ve seen these on TV!” Yuta told Jaehyun, “I wonder if the food is as delicious as it looks.”

It wasn’t as delicious, to Yuta’s greatest disappointment, but it was more than edible. Johnny was a great storyteller. He spoke with a slight Korean accent, him being more fluent in English, but it was barely noticeable. He talked about him immigrating to the states and settling here, about leaving his passion for music but not entirely, instead of playing instruments he writes about them. 

“You see, playing drums isn’t enough. So even though I love them to death, I chose my second favourite thing. Replaced the drumstick with a pen, got a job, bought a house, all is good. How are you doing though? It’s been years.”

“Seven something years, yet it seems as if only yesterday we were performing all together,” Yuta mused.

“It does,” Johnny’s eyes crinkled, “Do you still play?”

“I do! In fact, I took up the piano again, thanks to Jaehyun.”

“Oh, really? Jaehyun, are you a musician too?”

“I am, sort of. A classical musician though.”

“Ah, I see, did Yuta warp you into the jazz world too?” Johnny joked. 

“‘Warp’ is a good term for this,” Jaehyun nodded, chuckling, “he really did. It’s been a few months since I played classical.” 

“Once you get into jazz there’s no way out.” And Jaehyun agreed wholeheartedly. “I don’t mind though, I love it.”

“Then that’s great.” Johnny turned back to Yuta, who listening attentively. “What’d you search for me for?”

“We’re recording an album,” Yuta began, watching the expression of Johnny’s face change from curiosity to interest, “and we need a drummer. I know the best one on the entire planet,” Johnny’s lips turned upwards, “ but I don’t know if he’d be willing to comply with our request. What do you say?”

Johnny chuckled, nose scrunching, “This is so bizarre, but I love bizarre! Of course i’m in!”

Johnny added more colour and life to their covers, more volume, depth, it was like the icing on the cake, the cherry on top. The subtle beats enhanced the melody, complimented it, made the harmonies more satisfying to listen to. But most of all, recording sessions were even more pleasurable. Johnny was east to get along with, he was light in character, had an extremely witty sense of humour, cracked lame jokes and puns, though often in English. He was full of happiness and love, which Jaehyun really liked about him. Yuta had amazing friends.

During evenings Jaehyun continued to work on his rearrangement. Taeil willingly gave him the spare key to the music room, which was full of internment’s from head to toe, including a grand piano. Often Jaehyun found himself being stuck, but for long. Somehow his fingers just knew which chords to press, which notes to play, where to pause and where to resume, Jaehyun barely had enough time, while his memory was still fresh, to write everything down. The notes escaped him just as fast as they entered his mind, but they could be tamed. 

Even more often, Yuta was there with him, helping him with composing, with rearranging, or just being a good listener. Jaehyun really appreciated that. Yuta unknowingly gave him motivation, inspiration, energy, all in one. With Yuta around, Jaehyun’s mind both concentrated and got distracted more; Yuta was so damn beautiful, but Jaehyun had to focus. After an hour of mindlessly playing the same notes over and over again, Jaehyun felt a weight over his shoulders and the top of his head. Yuta was back-hugging him, resting the side of his head on top of Jaehyun’s. “Let’s take a break, okay?” He spoke quietly, gently, “You’ve worked hard for today.”

Jaehyun hummed. “If you say so.” Yet he still continued to play, enjoying Yuta’s warmth and his steady heartbeat. 

The weight on his head shifted, and now Yuta was resting his chin on Jaehyun’s head instead. His hands hovered above with keys, along with Jaehyun’s and pressed chords of their own. Jaehyun put his hands down, curious to what Yuta was about to play. 

Yuta started humming a quiet tune. It vibrated throughout Jaehyun’s chest, rung in his ears, as if he was the the one humming. The chords were starting to get familiar. “Fly me to the moon?”

“Mmhm,” Yuta continued humming. 

“That’s one of my favourite songs.”

“I know,” Yuta said and Jaehyun could feel him smiling. “That’s why i’m playing it.”

_Fly me too the moon_ ,” Yuta spoke-sung, “ _let me play among the stars_ ,” his voice was utterly soft. He wasn’t off key, like he had claimed, he was just quiet. He pressed simple chords with his slender hands. The fact that Yuta was softly singing so close to Jaehyun’s ear, the concept of personal space completely abandoned, felt extremely private, intimate. “ _Let me see what spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars_.” Yuta sung a bit bolder now, trying to press the correct, more difficult chords through his round-frame glasses, that were about to slide off. When it didn’t work, he simply improvisedс, he does it best. Jaehyun closed his eyes for a moment. He decided that loved Yuta’s voice, its tenderness and its gentle touch to the soul. 

“ _In other words, hold my hand,_ ” Yuta squeezed and unsqueezed his left hand, and Jaehyun got the signal. He slowly intertwined their hands, smiling to himself, and they stuck together like ivy on a tree. Jaehyun’s breath quickened at the next lyrics. 

“ _In other words,_ ” Yuta’s voice got lower, quieter, barely audible, almost like a whisper. He lifted his head off Jaehyun’s, and moved more to the left, so that there was more space between them, but also so that they were still really close. Jaehyun turned his direction, already breathless, yet anticipating. He could count each black eyelash on Yuta’s eyes, see the tiniest details on his face. Yuta knocked their foreheads together, his pretty eyes fluttering shut. He parted his lips. _“Baby, kiss me.”_

And Jaehyun did. 

 

-

On the last week of their stay in the states, Jaehyun spent most of the time finishing up his rearrangement. Everything stayed the same; they met up with Johnny and later on with his boyfriend, Ten, who was originally from Thailand, that was cheery, witty and very passionate. He loved to dance, but, as well as Johnny, abandoned his dream for the sake of reality. They fit perfectly together, both very similar, both foreigners, both lovers of music. Ten could sing. Very well, in fact. Yuta asked him if he’d like to participate in their album, and Ten, much like Johnny, was eager to say yes. 

Taeil was a constant bundle of sunshine too. He was like the older brother Jaehyun has never had. Taeil was supportive, never asking Jaehyun to rush with the prelude, encouraging and he always told Jaehyun, and Yuta, to take care of themselves. At first, they thought they’ve signed a contract with the devil, but they signed one with an angel instead. 

The only thing that changed in the course of the week was Jaehyun and Yuta’s relationship. Now their mornings were filled with kisses, more skin-ship, more kisses, and more kisses again. Kissing Yuta felt like sitting in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot childcare in one’s hands, it felt like listening to calming music on a rainy day– it felt like home. It was something Jaehyun could do for hours on end, something he might be loving more than playing piano. Jaehyun found every moment of his day brighter every time Yuta pecked his cheek, nose, lips. It was something heartwarming, fulfilling, absolutely essential. 

And so, a couple of days before the departure, Yuta handed the CD with their album over to Taeil. “Done,” he said proudly. Taeil took the CD in his hands, almost in awe. “I knew you’d make it. Let’s give it a listen, shall we?” 

“Lets.”

The whole crew got together in Taeil’s office, huddled on the wide leather couch. The EP consisted of six songs, each was about seven minutes long. It varied. The room quited down for half an hour to immerse themselves into dynamic sounds and melodies. When Jaehyun’s rearrangement of Chopin started playing, the upbeat atmosphere shifted into something melancholic, and Yuta pulled Jaehyun closer, resting his head on Jaehyun’s shoulder. Half way into the piece Jaehyun could feel warm wetness forming on his shoulder. He was surprised, but gently wiped Yuta’s fallen pearls away. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, kissing the crown of Yuta’s head. Even with eyes red and glistening with tears, Yuta looked ethereal. 

“How can I not?” Yuta asked rhetorically. “This is so beautifully sad. I’m too sentimental for this,” he laughed, blinking the hot tears away. “You did a great job,” he sniffed, resuming back to their initial position, only this time Yuta reached for Jaehyun’s hand. He played with his fingers, traced the outline of his knuckles, and by the end of the song he intertwined them. They stayed like this until the recording stopped playing. 

“This is,” Taeil was the first to speak after the music finished, everyone was looking at him expectantly, “a big yes. A pass. A definite pass. It’s really really good. Not quite yet phenomenal, but getting there.” Yuta was more than content with that. “I’m glad to hear that. I should thank you for the opportunity, Taeil.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine! I had the time of my like working with you all. Now, what will you name the album?”

 

Jaehyun and Yuta set off the following day. With warm goodbyes, warmer hugs and promises to keep in touch. Despite the short time spent together, the three strangers became their friends. Johnny and Ten made sure to visit them some time soon and Taeil gave Yuta the number of his other office, which was also coincidentally in Korea. Jaehyun grew attached to New York all over again, to its unnecessarily tall buildings, chaotic streets, loudness and its freedom. It was hard to say goodbye, but goodbyes weren’t forever.

They drove back early in the morning, just as the golden sun was rising from the horizon, turning the skies red and orange, then a faded yellow and after, the canvas of the sky got semi-permanently painted blue. The ride to the airport was rather quiet, but comfortable. With Yuta, it’s always comfortable. Suddenly, Yuta spoke up. Jaehyun lowered the volume of the radio.

“You know, I didn’t finish singing the song that day.”

“Which song?” Jaehyun asked, focusing on the mostly empty highway. 

Yuta hummed instead. “ _Fill my heart with song, let me sing forever more,_ ” Jaehyun’s lips quirked up. He loved the song, loved Yuta singing to it even more. “ _You are all I long for, all I worship and adore._ ” Jaehyun was grinning now, Yuta was smooth, too smooth. “ _In other words,_ ” Yuta leaned closer to him, “ _please be true,_ ” his voice turned softer, and he stared into Jaehyun’s side profile. The latter tried not to look too flustered under his gaze. 

“ _In other words,_ ” Yuta smiled himself, widely as always, “I,” he pointed towards Jaehyun, and the latter grinned wider, “love you.”

Instead of any explosions, Jaehyun felt a warm buzzing, it was subtle, but there. Like the butterflies in his stomach fluttered lightly, leaving a sense of tingling behind. He felt warm all over, giddy, or to say simply– happy. Really happy. 

“I love you too.” he said back, dimples forming, meeting Yuta’s loving eyes and charming smile, under the red traffic light in a crappy car, on an empty highway at ass o’clock in the morning. “But i’m sure you knew that already.”

Yuta giggled, nodding. “You weren’t exactly subtle. Be mine?” He asked, hopeful, and Jaehyun wished he wasn’t the one driving because he wanted to have his hands not on the steering wheel but on Yuta instead.

“I’ve always been yours.”

 

-

 

Taeil released the album days later. Surprisingly or not, it became an instant hit. It was played on radio stations, in bars, the people of New York loved it. When it got a lot of exposure, Yuta eventually signed with Taeil’s label. He went solo. Jaehyun, on the other hand, went another path, though also music related. He got offered a job at his old music school as a teacher. Jaehyun had a hard time picking between teaching and jazz, he loved teaching but he loved jazz too, and when Yuta asked, “Why not do both?” Jaehyun made up his mind. 

Months later they moved in together, to a much bigger apartment with a built-in music studio. Jaehyun’s old, barely working piano and the vinyl record of their album was the main attraction of their living room. Their apartment represented their personalities – Yuta’s brightness and Jaehyun’s composed self – it was simple and minimalistic, yet alive with little fragments of memories scattered around it. 

And a year later, they got a wedding invitation from Taeyong. It was in a neat envelope, with a blood red rose tied to it in a silver bow. Dark ink could be seen through it. Yuta was asked to be the best man. 

The wedding itself was extravagant, to say the least. It was held outside on a summer afternoon, when the cherry blossoms long have bloomed, and the cherries have grown in their place, when the days were as long as day and when the sun didn’t let itself be covered by the clouds. A lot of guests attended the wedding, not many of which Yuta knew. They were of high status, were prominent individuals in the world of business, were very formal, too serious about this relaxed event.

Yuta took Taeil as his plus one, mainly because Taeil insisted and Jaehyun didn’t refuse. They momentarily got lots in the crowd of people dressed up as strictly as one could dress, in the glasses of champagne and in the deep red roses weaved throughout the interior. It was a delight to find out that the whole crew had made it to the ceremony; Johnny and Ten flew back from New York especially for this, and Doyoung wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to see his old friends again. Taeyong was ecstatic to see them all together, all grown up and reunited. 

They met the other groom, Sicheng, a shy reserved man, who looked intimidating, who’s features softened only for Taeyong. 

It was sentimental. The vows were romantic, sweet and full of promises, Johnny teared up, but honestly everyone did. The highlight of the wedding, however, was the band’s reunion. Taeyong’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw the initial musicians walk off the stage and the original trio with Jaehyun take their place. Taeyong’s eyes glistened with tears themselves, as he listened to all the familiar melodies of jazz, reminiscing their times in college, drowning in the memories that were presented in the form of music, and when he leaned in to kiss Sicheng on the lips, with a large smile of his face, Jaehyun knew the wedding was a big success. 

Yuta and Jaehyun retuned back home tipsy and exhausted long after midnight, their suits crumbled and neckties ruffled. Even in the state of tiredness, the whole fiasco inspired Yuta, so he sat by the piano, and started playing, a bit too thoughtfully. 

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“Somewhere on Earth, it’s midday or morning, so no,” Yuta answered. “Come sit here.”

Jaehyun sat next to Yuta on the piano stool, there wasn’t much space so their knees touched, but, just like the first time they met, neither minded. Jaehyun rested his head on Yuta’s shoulder, too tired to say anything. He just listened, to the vibrations coming from the piano, to Yuta’s heartbeat and ragged breaths, to the music. 

The atmosphere turned serious, more quiet as Yuta sung under his breath the lyrics to a very famous, emotional song. “ _And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain._ ”

Jaehyun looked up at Yuta, stared at his focused eyes, his god-like side profile, already dark brown hair, shining pierced ears. He looked at his hands, that note by note started wavering and getting more uncertain. 

“ _Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention._ ” Yuta’s hands started shaking, his voice broke from the overwhelming emotions. Yuta was sentimental, sensitive, but he wasn’t scared to let his feelings show. Jaehyun loved that about him. Jaehyun loved everything about him. 

_“Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew  
When I bit off more than I could chew”_

Yuta could barely see through his tears, that fell into the keys. Jaehyun patted his back. Through the lyrics, Yuta reflected on his life, looked back on his past, and even though his years were young, he could relate to the song immensely. Yuta finished the song on a barely audible whisper, his notes as quiet as his voice, and when he lifted his hands off the keys, he stared at them, a sad but warm smile adorning his face. 

“This is the end of this chapter.” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“It means,” Yuta turned to Jaehyun, his features soft, “i’ve achieved everything I aimed for.” He caressed Jaehyun’s, then leaned in for a brief kiss, “I reunited with my friends, now i’m making a name for myself in music - all thanks to you. Thank you.” Yuta kissed Jaehyun again, more tenderly. Yuta’s kisses were always tender.

Jaehyun smiled. “You did it all by yourself, no need to thank me.” And Yuta buried his face in Jaehyun’s neck. “Your humbleness never ceases to amaze me. God,” he laughed lightly, “I love you so much. I hope the chapter of us never ends.” He intertwined their hands together, much like how their hearts were intertwined. 

Jaehyun kissed the top of Yuta’s hand. “It has only just begun.”

 

-

 

Another year later, Yuta released his own album, named “My Love”. He dedicated it to Jaehyun.

**Author's Note:**

> this was jaehyun’s rearrangement, for anyone who’s wondering uwu 
> 
> find me on twitter!  
> kudos and comments are much appreciated [puppy eyes emojis]


End file.
